I'm suspended for two days because of the fight with Thaddeus. I have to confess; I saw it coming like a shock wave the second my fist collided with his foul mouth.
Dad comes back from his business trip to this mess. Mom is so pissed at the whole my-son-has-turned-gangster breaking news, she hasn't talked to me at all.
She's five foot two, but she compensates with an anger worthy of a Balrog. Sprinkle it with sneaking out on my bike without permission, and you get a full monster Mom scenario—worth it, though. I needed time with Dawn.
"River, son, your mom is hitting the damn roof over these incidents. She's crying to your poor Abuela as we speak." His head is hanging low, as if he was the one being punished. It makes me want to apologise all over again, but I decide not to since everything I say or do stirs Mom's anger pot. If there's something my father is good at, is being the anchor of this Hispanic family. He's taken all of us overseas and still keeps us afloat. We all love him for it, unless Mom is cranky, and boy is she irked now!
Dad is right. When I came back from my date with Dawn, she was incoherent. She'd taken me by the shoulders in the garage while I was parking my bike, looking at my face and shaking her head.
"Fighting at school and not telling me about it?" Her Spanish accent is so adorable I had to bite my lip to avoid grinning. She stabbed her index finger into my chest. "Then going out on your bike as if nothing happened?" This is when she wept, and it broke my heart.
I'd seen her this mad with my brother before over getting detention at school for cheating on a test. She's thrown a full set of deck cards at him—only thing within reach at the moment—but never at me. It turns out the Principal called my house, leaving a message on the machine. Mom heard it and came after me, only to realise I'd taken off.
"I can't believe my son would do this. We haven't raised you to be a rebel, River," and with that said, she stopped talking to me.
Dad tried to put out the fire but came up empty-handed. Abuela was the diplomat. If she couldn't make it right, no one could.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I messed up big time, but I had my reasons." I'm unable to meet his gaze, so I look down at my boots and remember the moment I was kicking stones by the fountain before holding her hand. Then another moment—our last together—seeps into my memory, brimming my senses. Her lips were so full, so sweet. She was so nervous, and I was spinning. My head in a daze, all I craved was more time with her.
"Get the boy some ice for that nasty eyebrow cut." Abuela enters the kitchen with Mom beside her.
Dad puts a hand on Mom's shoulder as he passes by her on his way to the fridge. She squeezes it and reciprocates with a nudge—progress.
"Can you see well, mijo?" Abuela asks me, and I think she winked at me.
"Yes, Abu. All is well. Just a little swollen, that's it," I shrug, trying to downplay that I'm bleeding.
"Your dad broke his nose once over a school fight. He can only breathe through one nostril. That's why he snores like a freight train!" Abu chuckles, and my dad grows crimson.
"Mamá! Don't you give River more ideas, por favor." He's grinning though, as he hands me the icepack.
"So, why were you in a fight? Was it over a girl, son?" Dad hits the target with razor-sharp accuracy. I wonder how, though.
"He was defending his girlfriend," Josh says, entering the kitchen and my blood boils.
I have all eyes set on me and my swollen eyebrow, proof of my insanity, and all I can do is gasp and gurgle a few nonsensical sounds at such a comment.
"A girlfriend? I don't know about any girlfriend." Mom clicks her tongue and I'm losing my shit. Any second now...
"Is that right?" Dad wiggles his eyebrows in my direction. Nausea claws its way up from my abused stomach... the kitchen spins, and I might decorate the floor with Captain Crunch.
"She goes to our school. New girl, kind of weird, but she seems cool. Big tits, too. Thaddeus said some nasty stuff about her so River attacked him and that was it. Epic!"
"Josh!" I catch myself shouting and clenching my fists. "If I ever hear you talk about her like that, I'll kill you! I will literally kill you! I will go to jail for the rest of my life, I will break Mom's heart even more, but I will. Kill. You."
Mom looks at me like she always does, as if she's trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with her son.
"Joshua, mind your manners, that's no way to speak about a lady. River, calm down." She taps her fingers on the counter while scanning it for something to throw at me, I'm sure. There's nothing, so she sighs in defeat.
"It is true, though. She's kind of big. So the comment went about her fat, juicy bum." Josh glares at me, drooling over my impending demise. It's his one chance to get back at me, he's usually the trouble maker, but now the tides have turned.
"Hey, pal. You heard your mom. No disrespecting the lady. Go to your room now." Dad points at the corridor, his stance expectant.
"But Mom, my favorite TV show is on." Josh tries pleading. Puppy eyes, the works. Divide and conquer is his strategic move. It backfires. Ha! Amateur.
"You heard your father, Josh. You don't get to talk like that in our house," Mom says. Her disappointed expressions reaching through to Josh more than her reprimand.
"But Dad talks like that with his friends when it's poker night." He mumbles his response, his treading-on-thin-ice barometer in the red-zone, and he drags his slumped self toward the corridor.
"I'm forty-five years old," Dad says, with a wicked smirk, "and a tough business executive, also a navy veteran, so I'll say whatever the hell I want, young lad."
Mom closes the distance between them and jabs a long fingernail at my dad. "Basta. Or I'll send you to your room, too." She giggles because my father hugs her and lifts her off the ground.
Josh leaves, gawking at our folks while Abuela pats him on the shoulder. She'll work her magic on my little monster brother for sure.
I stand frozen solid, even though a fire is consuming my organs one by one. Is that even possible? To anger-combust? That'd be quite a once-off superpower, to be honest.
I watch my brother leave with sagging shoulders and a scoff and try my best not to run after him with a kitchen knife. All this talking about Dawn has made me weary. I need to hear her voice, so I fantasize about calling her.
"Can I be excused for dinner?" I try my best to look collected.
"Will you apologize to your brother later, hijo?" Dad bargains like the entrepreneur he is.
"Okay, will do." I cave in. I need to hear her voice, or I'll start breaking things. What's wrong with me? I don't have the slightest idea, but the only thing I care about is picking up my damn phone and reaching out to her. Screw messages. I'm so hungry for her words, my insides flip flop.
"Go, I'll make you a turkey sandwich later," Mom says.
She smiles a tiny one, and I think I'm out of the woods. Deep down, she is quite the romantic. She whispers to Dad, "Over a girl..." as she fixes dinner. Her daydream eyes flicker from the pots and pans to my father's loving gaze and back again. He joins her, tying an apron round her small waist, placing a soft kiss on the back of her neck as he ties the knot.
"Like father, like son," he whispers to her, making Mom flush.
Seconds later, I realise what he meant. Could that be?
Was Dad's broken nose over Mom back in the day?
Whoa...