A Target's Love

3

Javier straightened his bowtie for the millionth time that evening. The stupid thing was bent on being as crooked as possible. He groaned in annoyance when another attempt proved futile.

"Why the hell do I have to go, anyway? I hate black-tie events." He complained in an almost childish manner.

His mother made clucking sounds with her tongue, indicating her disapproval of her son's words. "Now, Javier, I expect you to be nice when we get there. And would it kill you to try and impress the ladies? Please, for Pete's sake."

Javier turned away from his mother in annoyance. "Father, can't I sit this one out? I really don't give a damn about any of this."

"You can't disappoint your father's associates like that." His mother countered. "They're looking forward to meeting you. Not to mention, the Harringtons are going to be in attendance, and so will their youngest daughter, Sophia. It's been so long since you saw her and she's grown into a stunning woman. You two should get reconnected."

His father looked at him, obviously irritated. "Son, we've been over this before. You're going to be in my shoes someday. You need to get acquainted with these people."

"I know. . .but. . ." Javier stepped aside as his mother tried to brush his hair. "These social events are your thing, not mine. . .Mother!" He dodged to the right as his mother swiped at his dark, cropped hair with the brush once more. She was almost doing a full-scale en-pointe in her attempt to reach his crown. "Mother! I'm perfectly capable of fixing my own hair! Geez!"

His mother scoffed. "Right. . ."

It was in times like these that Javier wondered if his parents would ever treat him like the adult he was. It seemed that, in his parents' eyes, he would always be a child--immature and irresponsible. Who wanted to be twenty-five years old and living his life? Tolerating his parents' condescending behavior? Definitely not him, but he had no choice. He knew that.

He sighed, suddenly feeling weary.

"Who're you taking tonight, anyway?" His mother was asking. "As your date?"

Javier sank into the sofa and closed his eyes. "Renee."

"That little sl–-"

"Carolina. . ." His father said, a soft warning in his tone.

His wife immediately changed her train of words, telling Javier instead, "That's nice!" and leaving the room hurriedly lest she uttered profanities by mistake.

Javier shot his father a grateful glance, but the man shrugged and looked away.

Just then Marcus and Javier's thirteen-year-old sister, Jenifer, entered the room, both of their faces contorted in anger.

"Marcus, you have to replace it. It was my favorite one!" Jenny screamed.

"No freakin' way!" Marcus yelled. "You just keep texting Blake!" The way he said the name was tinged with disgust.

"Nothing's wrong with him!"

"He just wants one thing from you, Jen. You're only thirteen years old. Why do you even need him?"

"I love him!"

Marcus burst out laughing. "You what?"

"Daddy!" Jenifer screamed, bursting into tears.

"What is it now?" William Quinton asked, exasperated.

"Marcus obliterated my phone. . ." She sniffled piteously.

Marcus grinned, "I smashed it to pieces with a rock. It was fun, actually."

This caused a new outburst of tears from Jenifer. Her father, uncomfortable around crying females, said, "Don't worry. I'll order you another one first thing tomorrow."