Dysfunctional

Chapter 4 Hostile Spaghetti

"Well well, where have you been?"
I had to resist the urge to flip Jason off, grab my plate and eat dinner alone upstairs in my room. But I knew I had to please my mom, and immediately going into fight mode wouldn't make her happy.
"The mall", I said tonelessly. I pulled my chair back and sat down at the dinner table.
It was a rectangular table made from cheap plastic, one you'd see at a very cheap diner. Its rectangular shape made it just a bit too narrow so nobody could sit at the head of it, and we were all just a bit too much in each other's face. My mom and Jason were sitting on one side, and I was on the other. It was a very laughable metaphor.
"Why didn't you tell us? You know, your mother was worried sickly. I was considering calling the police."
My fork dropped in my spaghetti. "You were considering what?" Disbelief. "And you didn't use that thick head of yours to maybe call me first before being all dramatic? Weren't you complaining about how I was on my phone too much only last week? And now suddenly you forgot I had one? I bet you did it on purpose just so you could complain about it later, didn't you? You just love to complain about me!"
"Lars..." my mom had her head bowed, her shoulders hunched, and she was making a hand gesture to me that meant that I had to keep my voice down.
Infuriated, I stuffed another bite of spaghetti in my mouth. I chewed loudly and angrily.
Jason grunted and tried looking for support or agreement from my mom, but she was avoiding his gaze. "You're being very rude," he muttered, "and if you go somewhere without telling us again, especially with those friends of yours, we will ground you."
I laughed. It was not a joyful laugh, but a tasteless, outraged one. "You will ground me?! Who do you think you are?!" I jumped up. "I can see what you're trying to do here! But you are not my dad! I don't care how much you try to boss me around and interfere with my life, you are not my dad and you never will be!"
"Go live with your real dad, then! If you don't like it here, go move!"
"My father is dead!" There were tears in my voice I had no idea were there, nor had I wanted to show them. I stormed upstairs to my room before I could allow my emotions to get to me any further.

Because of the deafening music blasting through my headphones, I hadn't heard my mom knock on my door half an hour later. She opened it anyways when I didn't reply.
It was obvious that she had cried. Her make-up was smudged and her eyes were red. It was also obvious that she had tried to pull herself together again before coming to my room. But that hadn't worked very well, as she was already half-crying again while she walked in.
I took my headphones off, grabbed both her hands, and put her down on my desk chair, still holding her hands.
Despite the things that had been happening lately, and the fact that I sometimes hated her for picking Jason's side over mine like I hadn't been her son for all those years while he only came into her life a little over half a year ago, I still loved her. I loved her like her son, which I was, and I loved her like an old friend.
"Why are you crying?"
Sniffling, she put her hand up to my cheek and stroked it. "Why," she said, "why can't we have a nice family dinner for once? Why can't we just be a happy family? Why can't you two just get along? Please, Lars? Won't you just try to get along with him?"
I scoffed. She was acting like it was all my fault. Of course it partially was, I was not delusional, I knew I was largely to blame for all this. But she couldn't go around acting like it was only my fault, like that hog invading our home and lives wasn't a huge part of the problem! Why did it always have to come down to me? Did she also have this talk with Jason? I doubted it.
"I'll start behaving when he does."
"He's trying."
"No he's not. He's trying to suddenly become my dad or something, but he's not trying to be tolerable, let alone likable."
"Please, sweetie? Can't you at least try to be nice to him? I can tell he's really trying to form a deeper connection with you, but you always immediately become so hostile whenever he tries to talk to you." My mom bit her lip, she was getting really emotional. "This is not how I know you, Lars. You've changed. It scares me, it's like I don't really know you anymore. Is there anything else going on in your life that I don't know about?"
For a second, my heart skipped a beat. I was afraid that she knew, she knew and this was the way she was going to confront me about it. Who told her? Had she looked through my browser history? Had any of my friends ratted me out? Could she just tell by looking at me?
I didn't want mom to know that I was gay yet. That would break us apart for good. No, first this whole Jason business had calm down before I could introduce another reason for her not to love me anymore. I was still too deep inside the closet and I'd keep the door shut no matter what.
"It's not me that changed, it's that jerk ruining everything! Do you hear the way you're talking to me? Would that have happened a year ago when he hadn't come to intervene with everything yet? That's all he does. You say he's trying to bond with me, but all he's doing is putting his nose in my business and criticizing my friends. I don't get how you put up with him! And now you're always picking his side like I'm the troubled teenage son ruining everything and he's just an innocent stepdad who tries to fill the gap of my absent father figure. It's not like that! He's a jerk, I'm telling you!"
"That's enough!" My mom said, trying to sound strict, but sounding weak and pleading instead.
"No, I'm sick of him. Why can't he just leave me alone? Why does he hate my friends so much? Why does he hate me so much?!"
"He does not hate you. And he wants to try to get along with you, but you're always away with your friends. You're barely home anymore. Jason thinks they might be a bad influence on you, and I can't wholeheartedly disagree."
My hands were shaking. "The reason why I'm always with my friends," my voice cracked, "is because I can't stand it here at home anymore! Jason hates me, and I don't think you love me anymore either."
That last sentence hurt saying out loud, but it seemed to hurt my mom even more, or rather it broke her. She broke down crying and clung onto me like a desperate child. She was muttering a bunch of stuff I couldn't understand.
I rubbed her back and stroked her hair like I was the parent comforting the child.
"P-Please," she cried, "why can't you just try? I just want us to be happy."
Shit, I was suddenly feeling like the villain. I sighed deeply, as I was forced to give in. "Fine, fine, I'll try not to fight with Jason anymore. Good now?"
I kissed the top of my mom's head, but then took her off me and stood up. I grabbed my phone and my jacket. "I'm going to a friend's house, I can't stand being here right now. I'll be back tomorrow or tonight or something. Don't wait for me, and tell Jason to go fuck himself if he has any complaints." And like that, I left her in my room as I stomped outside.