𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨

california dream

CHAPTER SEVEN
"california dream"

In the Hansen household, most things were made into a prestigious occasion, and me and Keith were ordered to behave accordingly. It had been planned since the day I entered high school that there would be a dinner to celebrate- though, as I reached that day, I learned the graduation celebration was not for me.

"Selene, get the good napkins out! The Joneses are coming, let's go!" My mother feasted hungrily after social events where she got to brag about her accomplishments like a dog to a bone. It was a classic case of keeping up with the Joneses- quite literally.

Still, it was a warm day. With my aunts helping my mother inside, I managed to slip away to the backyard, where a long picnic table was being set up by my father and Keith. Clearly, they were strained by this- their foreheads sheened with sweat, faces red with frustration at the other, and Keith's lip quivering with fear.

"God, you're incomptent but at least you get it done!" My dad stood up, finally, patting Keith on the back. To anyone else, that would've been a slight, but to us, coming from my father that was a compliment. Keith nodded, clearly out of breath- he took being with my parents worse than I did. To get back inside, my dad had to pass me- he offered me a scowl, but said nothing.

"When is your little standoff gonna be over?" Keith asked me, nervously- he was a nervous kid. I shrugged, admiring the table with him, which admittedly looked really easy to set up, "We're not. I'm leaving here soon, Keith."

He popped up, like the idea had never occurred to him. Instantly, he grew even more panicked, "What?! No, you can't leave me, just wait a little longer, okay?" I hadn't bothered to think of how Keith would feel, until then; I was too focused on my parents not giving a damn about me. I frowned, pitifully, "I'm sorry, Keith, but I can't." It was easy to forget Keith was sixteen, especially when he pouted. This, clearly, was a devastating blow for him.

"I don't know how I'll deal with them on my own." He voiced sadly, slumping down in the grass, and pulling his baseball cap over his face dramatically, "I mean, I know they treat you worse than me, but I think I'll go crazy."

It was a difficult situation- there wasn't a part of me that wanted to leave him, but if I stayed, the both of us would be stuck here unhappy until we died. "The Kramers are across the street," I cooed, optimistically, removing the baseball hat from his face, "And they will always love having you. You can listen to Buddy's records there! And they'll take you to see the horses!" Keith smiled, disappointingly. he wasn't happy, but he accepted there was no other option. Me and Buddy were dead set on leaving- to fulfill the goal we named the 'California Dream'.

We continued tidying up in the house- polishing, re-polishing, dusting, re-dusting, and so on. I did my best to not be alone in the room, attached to Keith like he normally was attached to me, but still my father cornered me until I couldn't escape, "Invite that boy of yours. I want to meet him." That was the first sentence he had said to me since the fight- it was full of rudeness, but still it was something. Even though me and Buddy had taken photos at my house for prom, it was a rushed affair and my father, luckily, hadn't been home.

He was home later that night, when Buddy had no choice but to meet him. I was surprised we had lasted so long without- Buddy filed in, awkwardly, a forced smile plastered to his lips. His hair was tucked behind his ears, I noticed as he greeted my parents with over-politeness. He did this when he wanted his hair to look shorter.