Grace (BWWM)

Chapter Sixteen

Heads up: There are a few expletives here.

~~

"Austin," I say, opening the front door after slipping on my shoes.

"Austin," I call, speed walking to him as desperation runs through me.

"Stop!" I yell, catching up to him and forcibly turning him around. He stumbles but turns, his eyes unfocused. My chest hurts. "Where are you going?" I ask, and his eyes slowly narrow as he focuses on me. It's dark, it's early in the morning, and Austin is here. Alcohol wafts off of him in waves and I stare at him, my heart breaking. My eyes stare at those same blue eyes that I've been seeing since he was twelve, that same blonde hair that I've cut for years. I'm staring at the boy I know. Or perhaps, a boy I knew. The boy standing in front of me now seems too distant to even reach. I feel like . . . I feel like I don't know him anymore.

"Where are you going?" I ask again, not even sure how he has gotten here. Well no, I heard tires screech loudly as a car pulled away, and when I came down to investigate, there was someone resting against the front door. One look in the peephole let me know that it was him.

"Aunty," he murmurs, and then frowns. He shakes off my hand and it falls. "You hate me," he says and his words wind around my heart, wounding it further.

"That's nonsense, Austin. I don't hate you."

"You don't even look at me the same. You're . . ." he burps a bit, managing to cover his mouth with a hand as he sways. "You're just . . . always complaining. Always complaining about what I do. You want me to be perfect."

"When did I tell you that I want you to be perfect? What are you saying?"

He came at this hour, completely drunk after riding with Lord knows who and probably hanging out with that crowd that causes trouble in the city. Joe has seen him a few times with them, and I absolutely hate that Austin spends time with them. He's better than this. If I had known that going to the military academy would make him like this, I would have pushed even more for him to stay .

"What nonsense are you saying? Ehn?" The anger I'm feeling from his constant irrational and stupid behavior is coming out in my voice.

"Nonsense? So it's just nonsense to you?" he asks, somehow seeming more sober with that.

"Of course. You're here and you were out drinking. You're acting like a drunkard who has no future. I want you to be well, I want you to be successful but instead, you are throwing your life away."

"You think I'm some drunk throwing my life away?" He burps and I don't even need to answer that. "What if I'm living my life how I want to live it?" He points to himself with a thumb, eyebrows knitting together.

"I get to do what I want to do," he says, his volume increasing.

"And acting recklessly is what you want to do? Ehn? Acting idiotic? Like a fool? So senselessly, and engaging in rubbish around the city? Do you know how people talk about you now? The child of a successful lawyer and well-known real estate agent is—"

"That's bullshit! Who said that I give a damn about that? I don't give a flying fuck about that! I don't give a fuck about them—they can . . . can . . . go fuck themselves for all I care, along with anyone else who thinks that."

I blink before I feel an ugly anger aroused within me. Austin has never once raised his voice at me—ever. And neither has he ever spoken to me like this before. But with this new behavior, I guess that has suddenly come to an end.

"Shut your mouth. Don't you ever speak to me like that." I step up to him, my eyes blazing as anger pumps through my veins. For a moment, he blinks, never having seen this side of me.