I don't know why I was so angry.
I ran my fingers through my hair, resisting the urge to yank it all out in frustration. I felt fire flow through my veins inexplicably, but undeniably. The combination of my exhaustion from the steadily rising number of sleepless nights and the emotional strain from the day before pushed tears into my eyes, but I swallowed them. Focusing on my anger made it easier not to cry.
Restless, I hopped up from my sitting position on the stairs of Kenzie's deck and began pacing her lawn. The heels of my shoes browned with dirt from digging them into the grass so deeply.
Kenzie's back door creaked open and shut; I turned to see her leaning against the doorframe. The look she gave me— one of fear, guilt, and concern— acted as a drain for my emotions, and I felt the anger in me slowly begin to diminish. Kenz began walking towards me, giving me a small smile.
"Hey, you," she began.
"Hey."
Kenzie folded her arms. "So, what was that all about?"
I sighed, shaking my head. "I don't know, Kenz. I'm just tired."
"Why don't we sit, then?" she offered.
I obliged, seeing as my legs were beginning to feel like lead anyways. I sat on the grass then and there.
"Oh, I kind of meant on the steps— you know what, never mind. Don't worry about it, I'll just sit here too." Kenzie filled a spot on her lawn right in front of me, looking me in the eye.
I wanted to keep my lips sealed, more because I didn't know what to say than anything, but Kenzie's gaze prompted me otherwise. "I didn't mean to blow up on you like that. I've just had a lot piling up on me lately."
"I know you have. That's my fault," she said.
I shook my head. "Just 'cause it's because of you doesn't mean it's your fault."
"Pete, that doesn't even make sense."
"You don't make sense!" I retaliated defensively.
Kenzie rolled her eyes. "Resorting to third-grade insults, are we Parker?"
"Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind."
Kenzie batted her eyes dramatically. "You just can't stop thinking about me, huh?"
"I can't, actually." I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into me. "I just want you to be safe."
In response to this, she tilted her head up to look at me and sat up shortly afterwards, her eyes scanning my face with concern. "You look so tired, Peter," she whispered softly.
I cleared my throat. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me, you're the one in danger!"
"It's not me I'm worried about right now," Kenz said, a softness in her eyes.
"You don't need to be worried about me. I'm fine!"
"Peter, listen to yourself. I'm not asking you to be fine, I'm asking you to be honest. Could you shut up for a second and consider the possibility that I might be right?" Although her words were harsh, she spoke them with an intentional, gentle tone.
I started to apologize, but was cut off by the opening of Kenzie's back door. Lucy stood in its frame, a grim look on her face. "You have a visitor, Kenz."
"Who—?" Kenzie trailed off, her eyebrows furrowing. She squeezed my knee and stood up, following Lucy back inside. I went in shortly afterwards and felt a volcano of anger bubble up inside of my stomach as I took in the sight in front of me.
Mason Francisco James, the infamous father of my girlfriend, was standing in the living room. He grasped a suitcase in his hands and threatened to burn the room with the fire in his eyes. "McKenzie," he seethed, "who are these people?"
In front of me, Kenz have a wide gesture to all of us. "'These people' are my family."
"These people are strangers! I am your family!" he spat.
"You are more of a stranger to this house than any of them," she shot back. "Also, I want to congratulate you. You've come around to this house a full two times now in a total of three years! I think you're setting a record."
Her father's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I let you live in this house as a courtesy, and you do not get to choose who comes in and who doesn't. I do. Is that clear?"
In my peripheral vision, off to my right, I saw Lucy move to seemingly attack Mr. James, but Charlie restrained her. I couldn't blame her— I was about ready to web his mouth shut and shoot him out of the window myself. I stepped closer to Kenzie, placing my hand on the small of her back. I told myself that it was so I could steady her and not the other way around, but that wasn't true.
"Can I ask you a question, Mason?" Kenzie stared her father right in the eye, her eyes stalwart.
"If you must—"
"Good," she interrupted him. "My question is: why exactly should I listen to you?"
Kenzie's father blanched slightly. "Am I misunderstanding you—?"
"No. Not at all. Give me one valid reason— just one— to listen to you. Besides the fact that we share DNA, what have you ever done to earn my obedience?"
The businessman was silent for a second. "I am your father, and that should be enough for you."
"You may as well be a stranger off of the street for all I know. I don't take orders from people that don't care about me." With every word she spoke, Kenzie's voice got stronger.
A false sympathy trickled into his eyes as he pined, "Of course I care about you."
"No, you don't," I said softly.
His gaze shifted slightly from Kenzie to me, an annoyance washing over his features. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"I'm Peter," I began, "Kenzie's boyfriend."
"My daughter has no boyfriend."
"She does, idiot. He's standing right in front of you." Lucy's voice rang through the house, turning the focus of Mr. James onto her. She smiled a sarcastically sweet smile. "And because you're so obviously daft, I'll introduce myself, too. I'm Lucy, your daughter's best friend basically since birth. Maybe even before then. She's told me all about you. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'd be lying."
"I refuse to be pestered by a teenage diva," Mr. James hissed.
"Then perhaps you'd rather be pestered by an adult diva?" Nat offered, fuming.
"No, no. Why don't we talk this out?" Steve held Natasha back as she started stalking towards Kenzie's dad.
Kenz put her arm up, gesturing for quiet. A powerful kind of silence filled the room as Kenzie turned her head up to look at her father. Any trace of fear or doubt was gone, and her voice was steady as she spoke, "Father, I'm going to ask you kindly once. Please leave."
For a split second, an emotion that almost looked like pain flashed across the businessman's face. Quickly, though, that pain turned to anger. "I WILL NOT BE TOLD TO LEAVE MY OWN HOUSE."
"This is not your house," Kenzie spoke calmly.
"Mason, why are you yelling? Is Kenzie home?" A voice came from the front door, but I couldn't see who it belonged to because my vision was completely clouded with anger. My nails bit into my palm with a bitter fire that turned my mental focus from my anger to my pain.
As my vision cleared, I saw Kenzie's hand fly up to her mouth. A woman walked into the house, a suitcase in tow. She looked very similar to my Kenz— the same thick, chocolate hair and soft features. The woman's posture was tighter and more refined, but she and Kenz held themselves with the same regality.
Kenzie's mom.
As similar as they might've looked, there were some key differences that immediately told me a lot about Joanne without her saying anything. She wore a thin mask of makeup, and her fingers were sprinkled with the sparkle of diamonds, permeating professionalism and importance. She was quite obviously a businesswoman. The biggest difference, though, was the lack of smile lines on Kenzie's mom's part. There was no hint at any kind of natural happiness on her face. It was like her mouth had been trained like a dog to lay down flat, as if being threatened by a spray-bottle. (Aunt May might have done that to me a few times when I was growing up, but I don't usually talk about that.)
Kenz walked towards her mother slowly, her arms outstretching and retracting in hesitance. Joanne showed similar signs of hesitancy, but she took a step towards Kenzie and took her trembling hand. "Hello."
"Hi, mom." Her shoulders shaking, Kenzie embraced her mom. I knew Kenz well enough—and had been on the receiving end of those hugs enough— to know that she was crying. Seeing her mom was a big deal, because even though she was only around about as often as her dad the past couple years, Kenz had always felt a connection to her mom that she had no desire to replicate with her dad. Kenzie had expressed to me on a small number of occasions that she thought she and her mom could get along alright if her father would ever let his assistant take a vacation. I smiled widely internally.
"Your mother is no more deserving of that hug than I am," Mason snarled.
All of my insides seemed to turn to fire as I looked at him. "You don't get to talk to her."
"I could make it so you never talk again, kid." Mr. James responded dangerously.
"Do you ever say something that doesn't make people want to punch you?" an incredulous Nat interjected.
"Only to people who matter."
"Mason!" Joanne turned from Kenzie to give her husband a glare.
Kenzie, her eyes fixed and mouth set, stepped forward silently until she was a mere foot away from her father. After a tense moment of nothing, Kenz balled her fist and socked him right across the jaw. He keeled over, hands flying up to his face in tenderness. Kenzie, standing over him for the first time that day, bent down to look him in the pained eye. "I knew I didn't matter to you anyways."
I pumped my fist in jubilation, giving Kenz a high five as she walked towards me. "That was awesome," I whispered to her.
"I've waited to do that for eighteen years," she said breathlessly, a smile on her face.
"You will pay for that, daughter," Mason stood up, thundering.
"I don't care," Kenz said simply. "You're a businessman, don't you have better places to be? You always did when I needed you. So take your business and get out of mine."
Joanne looked at her husband. "Mason, I think now would be a good time to leave."
"Before you go, why did you come?" Steve inquired. "I hope you had a better reason than just to make people angry."
"Joanne forgot a briefcase with some important business materials," Mr. James explained bitterly. "So, before you exile me from my own home, at least let us get what we came for."
Kenzie's mom walked up the stairs and turned left, heading towards the master bedroom. After a minute, she returned with a large, heavy looking, matte black suitcase. It had a silvery stallion-- the symbol of James Enterprises-- imprinted onto its front face.
"Mom, it was nice to see you again," Kenzie spoke softly, embracing her tense mother once more. "Please feel free to come around." She then turned her attention to her dad, who was giving her a death glare for the record book. "You, on the other hand, are not welcome here."
"I would really like it if you would get out now," Natasha gave Mason a brief, forced smile, and then relapsed to glowering at him, "before I use one of the knives in my boot."
Before exiting the house, Mr. James turned to Kenzie. "You will regret the way you treated me today. I have more power than you can imagine."
"If I'm anything like you, I most certainly won't."
With one final, dangerous look of contempt, Mason let Joanne and himself out the door, slamming it shut behind them.
**********
At dinner that night, Lucy and Kenz were deep in an argument when Charlie and I arrived and joined them at the table.
"A hot dog is not a sandwich, Lucy!"
"What disqualifies a hot dog from being a sandwich? It's bread with something in the middle--"
"The bread has to be separated into two parts! A hot dog bun is one single piece. That's like saying a calzone is a sandwich," Kenz stated.
"If a hot dog isn't a sandwich, what is it then?!" Lucy demanded.
"It's just a hot dog!"
"Can you two have this argument anywhere except for Olive Garden?" Charlie laughed.
"They don't even serve hot dogs here. How did you two get started on this?" I asked in confusion.
"Well, we got our third round of breadsticks—" Kenzie started.
"And then Kenz dipped her breadstick in a particularly thick spot of sauce—"
"It was delicious. But then Lucy was like, 'They should put that sandwich on the menu.'"
"So then she told me that just because something has bread as a base doesn't mean it's a sandwich."
"And then Lucy brought up the subject of hot dogs," Charlie continued, connecting the dots.
"And that's where we came in," I finished.
"Bingo," Lucy and Kenz responded in unison.
Charlie and I, who had just arrived thanks to our last minute invitation from the girls, belatedly joined into the argument. In all honesty, I don't think either of us actually cared about the argument itself—we just wanted to support our girls. Despite my issues with Charlie, that was one thing that we sympathized with each other on: we would do anything to protect the people we loved.
A buzz vibrated the table, and Charlie picked up his phone. With a small smile, he excused himself by saying, "It's my uncle. I'll be right back."
"He calls his uncle every day, it seems like," Lucy shrugged as he retreated into the lobby.
"Any reason in particular? Or are they just close?" Kenzie asked, biting off the end of another breadstick.
"I think they're just close. He's been like an older-brother-slash-second-father to Charlie. I think he got some bullies off of Charlie's tail in elementary school or something."
After a few minutes, Charlie returned, his phone on hold. "My uncle's got four extra tickets for this Madison Square Garden full access tour tonight. You guys interested in coming?"
"I've always wanted to go to Madison Square Garden," Kenzie gaped.
"You know Elton John has performed there sixty times? I could listen to his music all day," I gushed.
"Elton John?" Lucy snorted. "How old are you, like, sixty? Give me some Ariana Grande action."
"He's still doing tours and stuff, you know! He's not even that old," I said defensively.
"And I care because...?"
"Both of you, shut it," Kenzie rolled her eyes, then directed her gaze at Charlie. "I think we are in."
After we finished our dinner, and Charlie and I had split the cost of the meals plus a staggering seven sides of breadsticks between the four of us, we hopped on the subway and made our way towards downtown New York. On the way, we counted every person that came onto the subway that was obviously a tourist and asked them a random, obscure questions about directions and sites around the city. The most entertaining interaction with one of them was when a man gave us directions to a place we made up. Surprisingly, he hopped off at the very next station, walking away curiously fast.
By the time we were off of the subway, I was feeling happy and relaxed for nearly the first time that day. I took Kenzie's hand in mine, smiling widely. The New York breeze was welcome on my face, even when it blew Kenz's hair into my eyes occasionally. Charlie led us to the designated meeting spot where his uncle was supposed to meet us. However, as soon as we arrived outside of the restaurant, I felt the absence of something that usually resided in my pocket.
I cursed under my breath, "My wallet."
"Is it gone?" Kenzie took a quick glance around us, scanning the crowd for pickpockets.
"Mine is gone too!" Charlie exclaimed.
"My phone is missing!" Lucy gasped, her face full of concern.
After some searching, we found that our stuff was nowhere to be found. Kenzie was the only one who hadn't had anything stolen from her, for which I was grateful. She didn't need anything more taken from her than there had already been.
Following some brief discussion, we decided we would go into the restaurant behind us and see if any of the employees had seen them. The thieves couldn't have gone far, because all of us were sure we'd had our belongings only moments before arriving at the meeting spot.
We walked into the restaurant, named 'Charlie Palmer Steaks' non-coincidentally, and approached the front desk. On the waiting bench beside the desk, I saw a familiar face: Aunt May. Surprised, I approached her. "May?"
Her eyes met mine, surprise evident on her face as well. She stood up to give me a hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at Olive Garden with Kenzie."
"We were just there. We are just meeting someone here," I explained.
May's eyes lit up. "Are you in the group coming to Madison Square Garden?"
"Yeah— wait, how did you know about that?" My mind started to race.
"You know the guy I went out with last week? Damon?"
My heart sank into my shoes. "Charlie's uncle."
"Yeah! He told me he was inviting his nephew and his nephew's date plus another couple, but I had no idea it was you guys! What a fun surprise. Going on a group date with your aunt, huh?"
I hardly heard anything she said. My eyes were moving almost as fast as my heart, and filling with tears as fast as my heart was filling with dread.
I didn't see her anywhere.
"May," I choked, "where is Damon?"
"He said he had to go take care of something," her eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask?"
That was all I needed. I sprinted out of the restaurant and into the crisp New York air, feeling nothing but panic.
Author's Note: 4-27-19
Word Count: 3125
This one was a doozy. But I've set myself up to actually finish the book now, so, after months of you guys waiting for me to figure out what the heck I wanted to do, I know where to go!! Yay for revelation!!
Also, I'm sorry for this chapter. And also what I'm about to do to you. You're gonna hate me and love me at the same time and I'm so excited hehe
OK SO I SAW ENDGAME YESTERDAY AND YES THAT IS KIND OF THE REASON I HAD A SPURT OF WRITING INSPIRATION. Am I mad about it? No. Am I still dead over everything that happened? Did I cry through the whole movie? Yes, yes I did. More than a reasonable amount? The world will never know
Even though I've seen it, I will block you if you post spoilers publicly within a week or two of the release. People waited for years for this movie. #DontSpoilTheEndgame .
~n.s.