I step through the door to our mansion, hoping that I can sneak to my room without mom catching me. If she found out that I was only just coming home at four in the morning... Eh. What can she do?
Nothing. That's why I keep going out.
I am at the first step when the lights come on. Mom is standing there in her pajamas and bathrobe, her expression desperate.
"Where were you?"
"Out." I say, and continue up the stairs. Her hand comes out and snags the back of my leather jacket.
"I can smell it all over you."
"Smell what?" I retort, pushing away.
"Beer! It's all over your clothes. Where were you?"
"None of your business."
"It is my business, Jack! You're my son. Everything that you do is my business. If you've been out until the early hours of the morning, I need to know!" She says, her voice rising.
"I'm going to bed."
"No, you're not. We need to talk."
I give her a glare and keep walking.
Mom stands there, sputtering.
"Don't walk away from me!" Mom grabs my jacket again. "You can't keep going out like this and lying to me! You're only sixteen, and you've run away eight times, been to prison for stealing, drinking, vandalism, doing drugs... I'm at my wits end!"
"How long did it take?" I ask.
"Do not talk to me that way. I'm your mother."
"Really? I had no idea." I snap. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"You don't get to make that choice."
I am right now, I think, and shrug her off, rolling my eyes. Mom never does anything to actually stop me. She thinks that she is weak and has no control over me. As long as that thought goes through her small mind, I have as much freedom as I want.
All I have to do is endure a little yelling at sometimes.
Mom steps in front of me at the stairs.
"I'm sick of your attitude, Jack. I don't want to have to keep you tied down, but if you keep trying to-"
"Dad never used to give me a hard time!" I snap. "Dad used to let me go out and have fun, but you always hover like some sort of stupid bee!"
Pain explodes in her brown eyes. "I-I don't- I'm trying to be a g-good mother- But I-" Her voice cracks and tears fill her eyes. Then she shakes her head and says, "Why do you always use that against me? Y-you never snuck out or did drugs when he was alive, so of course he trusted you. If he saw you now, he would be ashamed!"
Now it is my turn to be hurt. Dad and I were very close before he died.
But I shake off the feeling. I replace it with coldness, which is the only way I can numb the pain.
"Don't talk to me about dad." I say, my voice filled with anger, "You don't know what you're talking about."
"HE WAS MY HUSBAND!" Mom screams. I have never heard her scream at me before. She has always made herself small and let me walk all over her. "I can't take this anymore! What do I have to do to make you happy, son?"
I start to open my mouth and yell back, but she cuts in.
"Of course you're only too eager to answer that, aren't you? I have always made everything about you! I want this, give me this, I won't do this... It's always about you. But I can't make it that way all the time!"
"Hey, if you-"
"If you can't understand that, then you can live your life somewhere else!"
"Yeah, right. Are you just gonna throw me into the street? I'm sixteen, so you'll get in trouble for that." I sneer.
"No," She draws herself up to her full height. "I'm asking a friend to do me a favor."
For once, I have no comeback.
"I've been thinking this over for a long time." Mom says, "I started making arrangements two days ago. Agnarr Winters is going to take you into his home."
Surprise starts to melt into anger. My hands curl into fists. "I'm not going."
"Oh, yes, you are. We've made it legal and everything. He is now your legal guardian. I have custody over you until tomorrow afternoon, when his wife, Iduna, will pick you up."
"I'm not going." I repeat, this time louder.
"YOU DON'T HAVE A CHOICE!" She screams, then blinks, surprised at herself. "I know this is hard for you. Your father died, you've been in jail, and now it looks like I'm giving you away, and I'm sure you must be confused-"
"I am not confused." I hiss. Why does everyone say that? They're always going on about how I'm angry, depressed, or confused, and that is why I act the way I do.
But it isn't true. I act the way I do because that's who I am. If they don't like it, they can take a hike.
"This is hard for you to see, but I'm doing it because I love you. You're not getting anywhere with me as your mother. Iduna can do a much better job, I'm sure." She says softly.
I turn away and go up the stairs, my leather boots making angry 'clomp' sounds.
"Jack?"
I stop, waiting for her to spit it out already.
"I love you."
I keep walking. As I pass my sisters' room, I hear the sound of faint sobbing coming from down the stairs.