To Love A Broken Heart

Chapter 16

Dylan POV

After storming out of the art room I go to the cafeteria. Not the place I wanted to be, but I just couldn't be in the art room right now. This damn girl is just so frustrating. I'm pushing her, I know that, but I'm just trying to help her. Something is wrong and she needs to talk to someone but instead she's just shutting them out. It's driving me insane. I stop at my locker on the first floor. I lean my head against the cool metal and let out a sigh. She's pissing me off along with my mom.

Last night after I put Callie to bed I stayed up unpacking my room and rearranging the furniture till my mom finally came home, around 10:30. At around that time was when I decided to start getting ready for bed knowing that soon I could go to sleep. When I was looking for a shirt she barged into my room. I didn't look at her, but I did notice her. "Ever heard of knocking"? I asked with no emotion.

"I've seen it all. Remember I've changed your diapers". She said.

I grabbed a shirt, put it on and finally turned to her. I crossed my arms over my chest. "Shocking, considering you never touched Callies. Who changed her diapers"? I thought aloud sarcastically. "Oh yeah. That's right. I did". I glared at her disappointed.

"You did and I'm thankful, but let's not talk about the past. Let's talk about the present". She walked over to my bed sitting down on the edge looking at me. "What is going on Dylan? You're never like this. Do you not like it here? Are the kids at school mean? We can move again if something is wrong"?

"No". I state firmly. "That's the problem. We keep moving. You keep shipping us across the country because you get bored of working at the same place or whatever your reason is. We've never been somewhere for more than three months. We're lucky if we even make it a month before you move us around".

"You're overreacting. We don't move around every three months. We were in Seattle for five-six months". She corrected me.

"No. We lived in Seattle for two months nine days sixteen hours and twenty nine minutes". I corrected her.

Knowing she would tell me I'm wrong I grabbed my phone and turned it on and opened it to my gallery and showed her the screen show I took of my long term stopwatch app. The times I just shared showing on the screen. "I- Your phone is broken. We were definitely there longer than that".

"Nope. We were there that long. We arrived at the end of June and left three days ago. Two months Nine days sixteen hours and twenty nine minutes in Seattle. We'll probably spend less time here". I set my phone on the nightstand and walked to the other side of the room so I was no longer facing her.

"I don't see the problem with that. Most kids your age would be excited about going to new places and seeing the world, but you have something against it". She states. Completely missing my point.

"That's not the point"! I turn around quickly and face her. "I'm not that kind of kid! I was used to stability and staying in one place, but yet when one minor inconvenience happens you force us to jump ship and move halfway across the country"!

"Are you defending your father"? She asks standing up and moving towards me.

"No. I am not defending him".

"It sure sounds like it. What your father did, was not a minor inconvenience. It was wrong. Your father pushed me down the stairs while I was six months pregnant. Almost killing your sister and you are calling that a minor inconvenience"? With each word she speaks she moves closer to me.

Her words take my breath away. He pushed her down the stairs? "When did that happen"? I ask her.

I had to have been there when it happened. Six months? That would have been August. I was home every day that month, except for the end of the month, that was when we started moving. The thirteenth I wasn't home that night, because I snuck out. Our enemy team's pitcher claimed that if he was allowed to throw pitches other than fast balls or underhand they would have won. So, we took their challenge for that night and we all met up at the field and played an un-coached, un-reffed game of baseball. We still kicked their asses. I kept my title of best pitcher and we kept our title as best team, but the next day while my dad was at a bar my mom had us packing up to leave, and I've never been back. "When"?! I asked her again, pissed she was ignoring my question.