FIVE. STEVE AND THE GIRL NAMED NANCY HAWKINS, 1983
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He knew this would be more annoying than anything. All the back and forth over a fucking kid.
"No..No, mom. I'm still at basketball practice. I-I can't just leave.. You know I can't leave yet.." He doesn't want to say it but he does. "I'm sorry."
The school line is scratchy, and his skin is hot against the aged plastic. "Steve, you're father is leaving tonight. I have to go with him, you know how he is. I cannot watch Violet anymore. She's getting beyond fussy. It's tiring and frustrating. I've already done this once in my life, I don't want to do this again."
Steve's forehead comes forwards against the metal phone box, it's been covered in stickers and writing done by markers throughout the years it's been up. Under his eyes in capital letters it says GIVE ME HEAD UNTIL I'M DEAD. Steve's brows furrow at the odd writing. "Mom.. I can't just leave? We.. We said we were going to make this work— Can't you guys leave, like, later? I have a game Friday night, I have to practice.."
"You need to find a goddamn babysitter."
The boy flinches as the line goes dead. And whether or not he realized, his eyes have glossed over. How was he going to keep this up? It only been a few weeks and his home life was dragging him down into a lake to kill him. School was an escape. Sure, he hated the actual school part. But girls still loved. Guys still worshipped. His sports were doing great. He was still King Steve.. and girls liked to talk about Violet.. and Steve couldn't lie, he liked talking about his daughter too.
That still felt weird saying.
"Harrington, you alright?"
The boy pulled away from the box, screwed up eyes snapping open as he met the eyes of his coach. He hung the phone back up, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Sorry." The aged man nodded gently, pulling off his baseball cap. "If you have to leave.. because of your kid, that's fine. It's alright."
One thing Steve realized he hated the most with having Violet was the pity, because not everyone believed he could do this. He was determined he could, he knew he could. He just needed to learn how to get there.
"No, everything is alright. I got it sorted. Thank you." His voice was tired and he smiled gently. The aged man before him nodded with a smile as well. "Well, let's get you back in there, star boy."
The rest of practice had gone smoothly, despite the pit of burning anxiety in the depths of Steve's organs. Though, as he pulled up to his driveway, the lack of cars frightened him. "Fuck.. Fuck!" Of course Candy Harrington had done things her own way.
