Fire and Matches

Part 4

The day after the tour of the school, I was tired and angry. Every single day, I came in to see the same stares and eyes that wouldn't make contact. Geez. I swear, Thomas Brody once robbed a convenience store, and he didn't get these looks. He got applauded for being a bad boy, that douchebag.
I looked at the phone number and the email address that Misty had given after the tour. I dialed the address into my phone. I popped out the keyboard and started typing.

GrayS: Hello, Misty... I guess😯

It was kind of awkward. But, what was I supposed to text her? Gosh, Misty, darling, you are finally on my contact list? I'm not entranced by her. We're friends.

She texts back: I good...😜

I thought of something, anything that would make sense. I typed in, How did u like the school? She answered a few seconds later:

MistyGrl3: it was 'k. Kinda crummy. 😐And boring. 😴

GrayS: got that right👍

She stopped texting me, and I walked down the stairs into the living room. I didn't see Zachary or Sarah around, so I walked over to the cradle in the downstairs nursery. Bella was cooing in her bed. She looked a lot like Sarah, with long black hair and sharp cheekbones. I brushed my finger against her nose, then started to leave. She started crying. Loud. Now I remembered why I hate babies.
Zachary rushed in and pushed me over against the day bed in the nursery. He scrambled to find Bella's bottle, then stuck it in the baby's mouth. She eventually started sleeping again, and Zachary walked out angrily. "What did you do? If you hurt my child..." he screamed at me as I followed him out. "Your child?! What about me? Did you forget about me, your son?! God, Dad, you think I wasn't alive or something because you sent me off to reform school for three years?" I yelled back. Then, Dad burst. "You shut the hell up, mister! I didn't send you there, you setting fire to the mansion did. And if I had the choice, I'd rather not have you in existence as my son right now! You're a brat, and a smart-ass, you're an arsonist. So you should just shut up and stop hurting my child!!"
Sarah walked in and dropped her grocery bags. "Zachary! What did you just say?" I guess I don't give Mom enough credit. She did just stop Dad from killing me. "What. Did you. Say?" Sarah asked again, setting her hand on the kitchen counter. "I... Sarah, it's not the time to do this!" Zachary countered, but Sarah kept going.
"I heard you call Gray an arsonist and a brat. And that you wished he wasn't your son." Zachary gaped at Sarah's bluntness. "I...I'm sorry," he whispered, but I was furious. He had just yelled out that he wished I wasn't his son. I sniffles up a tear, not letting myself cry in front of my douchebag father, and ran up the stairs.
As I packed a bag full of clothes, I heard my parents in a heated argument downstairs. I shut the suitcase, wrote down a note, and opened my window. As the sun set, I walked away from the only life I had ever known. To Misty.