One thing I had realized these past few weeks was that Diego and my dad didn't get along.
Not at all.
Some days they wouldn't even talk to each other, and other days they would yell at one another. As much as my mom loved having Diego home, she also noticed how much it pained her husband.
It made me wonder if Diego was my real brother. Dad never yelled at me the way he yelled at Diego, he also never talked shit about me the way he does about Diego. So, my only explanation was that he couldn't possibly be my Dad's son.
I had talked about it with my mom, but she laughed at the idea.
"Lee, come on. I'm hard carrying us right now," I said.
I was in my room talking over Discord with Lee, playing Valorant, when I heard shouting. I tried to ignore the shouting, but this shouting made it through my headphones, and it sounded aggressive. Most of it was coming from Diego's voice. I lowered the volume in my headset and opened my bedroom door to get a better listen.
"¡Me vale madre, que piensas de mi!" Diego yelled. "¡Me voy de esta casa!"
"Hey, I gotta leave the match!" I shouted through my microphone.
"Huh?" Lee said. "Apollo, we're in the middle of a match you can't go AF–"
"Sorry," I apologized, removing my headset. I ran out of my bedroom and followed the sound of Diego's swearing. It brought me outside the door of his old bedroom, where I watched him frantically pack his duffle bag. He grabbed handfuls of clothing and stuffed them into the bag carelessly.
He hadn't noticed me yet.
"Where are you going?" I asked, interrupting the string of curse words he was muttering. He turned around and the grimace on his face softened as he chewed his bottom lip and avoided my eyes.
"Apollo, I-I gotta go," he said, pulling me into a tight embrace. My arms stayed at my side as his weight shifted us from side to side.
This was a 'goodbye' hug.
He turned his attention back to his bag and continued to stuff it with his clothes.
Diego could get up and leave whenever he wanted. He wasn't afraid. I admire that about him, but it felt like he was running from something. Probably from us, his family.
"So, all those things I said. It meant nothing?" I asked, shaking my head..
Diego turned to face me and sighed. "No, Apollo." His hand reached out for my shoulder. "Thank you, really. It's not about you, it's him. I can't stand it here with him," he said, referring to our dad. Diego shook his head and continued, "It all works out, okay. You guys don't need me here. I'm not the role model you need, Dad's right about that."
I shook my head and pushed his hand off my shoulder. "We don't talk about you! Everything you're saying makes no sense," I said. "I just want you here!"
"Apollo, trust me. You guys are better off without me," he said, hugging me again. I felt my hands curl into fists as I punched his abdomen, and pushed him away.
"Stop saying stuff like that!" I shouted.
You're better off without me... I thought of Jackson.
"You know, who cares? Leave!" I shouted as I pushed past him, dashing out of his room. I could feel my throat closing up while the tears welled up in my eyes.
I hated crying.
I passed my dad in the living room as he asked, "Mijo, where are you going?" I paused for a moment, and slowly entered the living room, where my dad was watching TV.
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YOU ARE READING
The Beautiful You
Novela JuvenilSeventeen-year-old Apollo Reyes-Perez is struggling to understand two things: his identity and his best friend's suicide. But when Amory Hartmann, the new boy in town, catches his attention, he discovers that the answers to those questions may be mo...