Well Then

1

"Is there any particular reason that you can't stand spending any time with me?" I ask finally after an excruciatingly awkward and silent dinner over Zoom. Wondering why my father just couldn't be bothered to see me. Not when I got into Nevermore, not when I got my first award for my art, not when Tyler and his shithead friends assaulted me and I was in the hospital with internal bleeding after they vandalized my mural, not when I and everyone else at school almost died last month because a psychopathic herbology teacher decided to reanimate her bigot pilgrim great-grand daddy.

"Please Xavier, can I be spared the dramatics? I've been very busy, you know this." He says, not even bothering to look up at the camera.

"Clearly, for the last ten years or so." I don't know what I did wrong. My older sisters got time with him.

"Enough with the snide commentary. If all you wanted to do on this call was chide me, this could've been done over text. At the very least that wouldn't have pushed back rehearsals." He whines

"What do you even need rehearsals for, oh Great and Talented Vincent Thorpe?"

"Talent isn't perfection. I hope you take that to heart, winning a handful of trinkets passed off as awards isn't enough to prove any kind of prowess at anything."

I can't help but roll my eyes at that. He wouldn't know what awards I have or haven't gotten, he's never seen them.

"Speaking of lack of prowess, your grandfather will be taking you back to school after the break is done in a few days." His voice coated in derision.

"What?"

"Your mother's father, not mine."

Well no shit, he's dead. "How come?"

"If this is another tirade about how it's traumatizing that I'm not holding your hand at all times-".

"Jesus dad, I just mean how come he's coming around? He hasn't been around much since Mom...you know." He cringed at the sentence, my mother is one of his father's least favorite subjects.

"Oh, I'm not sure. I didn't ask."

"Okay, thanks for letting me know."

"You're welcome. Now, I can't push back production anymore. Your report card was fine, you've been keeping your nose clean at school as far as I know and you ended up being some kind of hero last semester. Good on you for that, son. Anything else I should know about?" He asks uninterestedly

"Nope, you're pretty much caught up."

"Alright. I'll be putting some money in your account for school supplies and whatnot. Don't over do it, like last year..." he says still remembering how much I spent on Bianca "Make sure to call your grandfather and iron out your plans with him. Have a good night." He says and hangs up.

"Good night dad..." I say to a blank screen. I close my laptop and sigh. What did I expect?

I take my plate to the kitchen and clean it off to put in the dish washer. Staying alone at the manor always feels lonely. My father got us a maid but it feels so uncomfortable to have a strange woman washing my underwear and replacing my bedsheets or anything else for me. I'd rather just do it myself. She can busy herself sweeping and mopping or something, it's not like she pays me any mind.
I'll call Grandpa Ron tomorrow, I don't feel like talking to anyone. Well, there's one person, I haven't talked to her since my last day at school.
I can't even begin to wrap my head around what I should feel about Wednesday. Obviously she's not an easy person to deal with, she's selfish, manipulative and abrasive, but she's never pretended she's not. It's not like I didn't know to expect that. She's also brave, loyal and apparently fiercely protective. I don't wanna push my luck with her and make her feel suffocated, I wonder if the phone was too much. I send her a single text the day I got back home. Just a simple "See you when term starts." It hadn't marked at delivered, so either she never turned on the phone or she let it die. I wish I could go to therapy about all this but Wednesday's ex boyfriend killed her so, I'm shit outta luck with that. I haven't found another one near enough to school or home. I can't imagine I'd have an easy time building trust with them if I did anyway. New one might just die on me like the last.
That was crass.
Obviously Kinbott's murder wasn't about me, and her dying was senseless. Like that dick just wanted another body under his belt or Thornhill just felt like killing someone that day. Who knows, but I couldn't ignore that her death while tragic, really sucked for me.
I should just get my supplies and toke up. It's not like my dad would ever know and the help doesn't care one way or the other cause I don't leave a mess. I ran up to the studio and took my stuff out. The stash was still fresh from when I bought some with Ajax from some townie.