Disowned
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 12
Kenny
The ceiling seemed to slowly get lower and lower until it was nearly touching the tip of my nose. I blinked; my eyes dry from being locked in the same spot for too long. The ceiling was again where it belonged, but the other things in my life weren't. Javier hadn't replied to my message.
I took a deep breath. My chest was heavy when my lungs filled with air. Just as I pushed myself into a sitting or slouching position, the alarm began blaring in my ear, a bitter reminder of the day ahead. I slapped the button to stop it and twisted out of bed.
I need to talk to him, the sooner, the better.
After taking off my boxers, I wrapped a huge white towel around my waist and walked to the bathroom to take a shower. The fresh smell of my body wash replaced the stagnancy of a sweaty, sleepless night, making me feel better for a minute. That is, until I remembered what had kept me up.
I stepped out of the shower, towel drying my hair more roughly than usual. The sad boy looking back from the mirror had dark circles under his sleepy eyes. The boy needed some makeup to cover his misery, but I assumed my mother wouldn't approve. My options were limited to forcing a smile on my face and returning to my room to get dressed.
Somehow, water still dropped down the back of my neck, making a wet spot on the shirt I had used the day before. I barely noticed as I stood there looking at my phone, wondering if I should check my messages one more time. Knowing that it would be torment, I swiped the screen.
The result was the same as before; no response from Javier.
I wanted to scream out of frustration. Everything had been so perfect between me and him before Joshua had come and ruined our date. His face danced before my eyes, and my blood ran cold.
Did the asshole make his next move after Chris and I left?
All the thoughts that kept me awake the whole night filled my mind again, forming a massive dark storm I just couldn't escape. I had to meet my boyfriend before the tornado tore our relationship apart. Operating on autopilot, I rushed to the kitchen and found mom there staring at me.
"What's gotten into you?" she asked.
"Huh? I don't understand what you mean," I said.
"Ever since you broke up with Hannah, you've been acting strange."
I sighed but regretted it immediately. I'd simply had a bad day yesterday, thanks to fucking Joshua, and now she was making a big deal out of it. This was one of those moments when the thought of living on my own felt like freedom. After reminding myself that I had less than a year of high school left, I sat down.
"You spend a lot of time somewhere," she said. "Are you seeing some girl?"
"No!" I blurted out.
It wasn't a lie, technically speaking, but I feared her staring eyes could see all the way to my soul and tear from me the information I had kept hidden from her. She sat down across from me and laid her hands on the table. I could imagine a locked door, bars on the windows, and a bright light pointing at me.
"I see you less and less at home," she said with accusation in her tone. "Who are you spending time with?"
"My friends." I tried my best to look innocent. "With Chris, mostly."
"Who else?"
I stood up.
"Please, mom. Can we just stop this interrogation?"
Heat was rising in my body, and my breathing became heavier. I glanced at her and was prepared to tell her how I spent all evenings and weekends making out on my boyfriend's bed. She would love to hear how I let my hands travel on his body until they reached the fire hose between his legs.
"Is there something you need to tell me?" she asked.
"Yes, there is…"
My eyes sharpened and I swung my hand.
Before any words came from my mouth, there was the sound of broken porcelain. My hand had hit a coffee cup on the counter and it crashed down right onto the new white rug she had bought last week from an expensive home décor shop.
My mouth hung open as I watched the coffee sink into the fibers.
"Oh shit."
"Are you just going to stand there?" she shrieked, leaping forward and grabbing a roll of paper towels.
"I…"
I tried to respond but couldn't find my tongue.
"Go start the washing machine," she said. "We have to soak it before it sets in."
She pointed furiously toward the laundry room. I trudged there and pushed the button on the washer. Cold water flowed out and slowly began to fill the bottom of the barrel. When it got a few inches deep, I shut it off.
To vent my anger before mom rushed in, I mustered all my adrenaline and kicked a pillow propped up against the dryer. It flew into the corner.
"Don't make plans for after school today," mom's voice sounded from behind me. "You're going to the mall with me to pick out a new one."
"But can't we wash it?" I asked.
"Too late."
She held the rug open between her hands. The coffee had already soaked through.
"I'm sorry," I said silently, looking down.
She tossed the rug into the washer and went to pick up the pillow from the corner of the room to put it back where it belonged. She glanced at me and let out a heavy sigh before leaving for the kitchen.
It was the end of the discussion for now, and I had to admit I was relieved I hadn't told her about Javier. Today wasn't a good day for such a discussion. I wasn't too optimistic that such a day would ever come.
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