We're Not Related Anymore...

Frustration Doesn't Begin To Cover It

Jacob: Present-Day

It's been days since I dropped Maddie at the airport. Since then, I've written my exam, come back home, and taken a job at the local mechanic. There was an internship I could've taken at a hospital but, considering my summer holiday plans began and ended with Maddie before a certain incident, I didn't take it. 

I'm not mad about that. I like working with cars. My grandfather was a mechanic and before my dad went to prison, he'd taught me everything his old man had taught him. 

That's the only problem with staying home, unfortunately. If I had taken the internship, I would be in New York right now at one of the best teaching hospitals in the world. But I'm not. I'm here, and in the perfect place for my father to find me. 

I'm just finishing with a car when I hear him clear his throat behind me. 

"You almost done?" He brought his recently bought second-hand car to be checked up by me, even though we both know he's more than capable of doing this kind of thing himself. 

"Yep," I say, picking up a rag to wipe up the grease on my hands and fingers. I can't bring myself to look at him. The sight of him pisses me off and I'm already angry enough as it is. 

Why the hell didn't Maddie text me? I think, for what must be the millionth time. She was so angry at me that day. Some of her words still come back to me when I least expect it and I feel like I've just gotten hit by a car. But she'd promised she'd let me know that she got home personally, hadn't she? And yet, I had to find out from mom through Josh like we're playing some kind of warped game of Broken Telephone.

Clenching my jaw, I brush past my dad. "You make the payment upfront," I say, wiping down some of the tools and then putting them away. 

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?" He asks, and I inhale a long, deep breath. Why can't he just leave me alone? 

"I'm busy. Why don't you try reconnecting with your other kids," I say, honestly, because, for some reason, both twins seem interested in getting to know him again.

"I have. Now I want to reconnect with you. At least look at me when I'm trying to speak to you, Jacob. You're a man now, last I checked. Act like it." 

I hate that his words work on me, I turn around, forcing myself to put down the wrench I had been gripping like a weapon. "I don't have the time for this," I force out. 

"Right, because you haven't just finished your semester at college and it's not like your shift is about to end," he looks down at the expensive wristwatch on his arm. "Oh, it is actually. Your shift ends in thirty seconds," he says sarcastically and I wonder how he even knows that.

"Are you stalking me?" I ask, leaning against the worn, wooden table that holds all the tools. It's so old I'm in danger of collapsing the thing with my weight but I don't care. Nothing these days feels like it's worth caring about. 

"No. I used to work here too. I know how this place runs. Just like I know there's a great bar down the road where we can have drinks." He takes a step closer, his eyes hopeful and searching. 

"Thanks but I don't feel like going out," I answer even though I do. The thought of drowning my sorrows in malt liquor for an hour or two seems like a dream come true. 

"Just come with me for one drink. I'll pay and you can give me an update on your life." 

I feel a muscle tick in my jaw. "Don't you already know everything there is to know?" 

"Yeah, about the boring shit. But I don't care about what you're studying or where you're working. I want to know what kind of man you've become. What kind of people you have in your life." His eyes light up as he thinks about something and his mouth curls into an almost mocking smile. "You can even tell me what really happened with that stepsister of yours. I've only heard rumors at this point."