Lost in Hollywood

Point of No Return

"How's your Mom holding up?" Miguel asked, making Hawk briefly glance at his friend who sat in the passenger seat.

"Okay, you know, considering—" he shrugged and returned his attention to the traffic, slowing down for the red lights. "I mean, she's crying and stuff— but I think she's kinda relieved too. At least now she knows why Dad was away all the time, and why he was so fucking cranky."

"And you?" Miguel hesitated before continuing. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Hawk muttered, realizing that he sounded just like everyone who said I'm fine when in reality, they weren't fine at all. "I am. I'm glad to finally get rid of that asshole."

A short silence followed his words, as if Miguel wanted to say something, but then decided not to - which Hawk greatly appreciated. They were in his car, driving to school. Picking Miguel up meant a longer route and waking up 15 minutes earlier, but Hawk didn't really mind it. He knew that if Carmen was working the morning shift, Miguel would have to take the school bus - which always sucked. Miguel still didn't have a license, and even if he had - it wasn't like Carmen could afford to buy another car.

So at least a couple of times a week, Hawk picked Miguel up and drove to school with him and Demetri. He tried to act all cool about it, but some days it really hit him - the fact that he actually had friends who wanted to sit in the car with him, who cared about how he was doing, who wanted to spend time with him.

After everything he had done, it was a fucking miracle.

"Mom asked to let you know that you and your Mom are welcome to have dinner with us any day you want," Demetri said from the back seat. "Or every day. You know how much she loves cooking, it's no trouble at all. She also called your Dad with pretty bad names, which I'm not going to repeat, even if I do wholeheartedly agree with her. To be honest, I wasn't aware that my Mom had such words in her vocabulary."

"Yeah, well, my Dad has that effect on people," Hawk replied with a sigh.

"Have you heard anything from him?" Miguel asked.

Hawk swallowed, a sudden emotion getting caught in his throat. The memory of what Dad had said on the beach - deformed, disappointment, never normal - was still heavy on his chest. He was angry at Dad for everything that had happened, he was incredibly happy that Dad was leaving - but still, it hurt that Dad hadn't even bothered to call or text him. Not an apology, not an explanation, nothing. A small part of him had hoped that Dad would have seen how hurt he was, that there would have been even a small flicker of humanity in Dad— that maybe even if he was leaving them and getting divorced with Mom, he would have wanted to keep in contact with him, but—

Stupid. It's never going to happen. He never cared about me and he's just happy he doesn't have to pretend anymore.

But from the deep, dark waters, painful memories slithered toward the surface - memories of Dad when he had still been just a kid. Dad helping him ride a bike, laughing, his hand on his shoulder. Dad taking him to baseball games, buying him an ice cream sundae at the mall, Dad reading a comic book to him— and it hurt so much that all that was gone now, gone and tarnished and destroyed, and maybe none of it had been real in the first place. Even the good memories he had of Dad, would now never be the same.

It was one thing to lose Dad, but to lose the memories too, was somehow even worse. It felt like losing parts of his soul.

Hawk was thankful for the fact that he was the one driving - it gave him an excuse to not answer right away, to wait until that emotion had passed. He was happy that Mom was finally divorcing Dad. He was happy. He was better off without that piece of shit.