Growing Pains

Chapter 22 - It was just a dream

D A I S Y

Frustration built up inside me. It had been for a while.

"This isn't funny. Come on, let me in," I said. This was ridiculous. So ridiculous, and yet, all I got was a shrug. A shrug and a no. Simple as that.

"Why?!"

"Because," Jason started, leaning further into his crutches, "I'm throwing a party to celebrate my team's victory and you're not invited. It's really simple actually."

I wanted to kick his bad leg. I was going to.

"You can't do that. This –"

He cut me off, pointing one of his crutches at me, all of him blocking the doorway. "I can't do what? Not invite you to my party? Of course I can. When have you ever invited me to your parties?"

"I don't throw parties."

"Yes, you do. Just last week, you had a movie marathon with Zoey. Where was my invitation to that?"

"Well, 1) that wasn't a party," I pointed out. "2) You hate romance movies, and 3) did I kick you out of the house?"

"1) It was absolutely a party, 2) I've seen The Fault in Our Stars, and 3) I don't care. I just don't want you home tonight."

"Did you like The Fault in Our Stars?" I asked. I was surprised he had even watched it. Jason's idea of good tv was adult cartoons.

"No, it was fucking stupid," he said. "Who the fuck buys cigarettes and doesn't smoke them?"

I looked at him like he was the stupid one, "It was a metaphor!"

"How pretentious do you have to be? Come on!"

"You know what? Fuck you."

"And who the fuck kisses at the Anne Frank Museum, Daisy?! What's next, they fuck at a concentration camp?"

"Right, we've gone on a tangent," I stopped him. "Just have your fucking party. Do whatever you want. I'll stay in my room. I promise."

"I don't know what a tangent is, but no, you can't stay in your room."

"Why not?"

"Cause I don't want people fucking in my room," he started. He didn't need to go on. I knew exactly what he was thinking.

I took a step closer, ready to just barge inside, even if that meant breaking his good leg, but he saw it coming, and smiled, a smug, smug smile. Then he closed the door on my face. I let out a scream of frustration and started ringing the bell. Again, and again, and again. At one point, I just kept my finger there, the buzz now a constant sound coming from inside the house. I didn't care what the neighbors might think. They had heard much, much worse. Zoey and I's movie marathons weren't exactly quiet.

Jason opened the door again.

"Do you want me to call the police?" he asked.

I frowned, "What exactly are you gonna tell them?"

"That you're having one of your manic episodes." He smiled. "How about that?"

"If anyone's manic, it's you. Now let me in. I have things to do."

I wanted to take a bath, eat a big bowl of cereal, and read my book in bed. Was that too much to ask?

"You're being such a spoiled little brat. Just go to Zoey's," he whined. He really whined. Like he was five years old. Mentally, he very well could be.

"She's not home."

"Don't you have any other friends?" Still wining.

"You know I don't."