From Enemies to Enemies

Chapter 7- A Date and Karaoke

Dad's apartment isn't as luxurious as mom's house. It's small, and cramped and dad sleeps on the couch. In every way possible, going to dad's is like a constant demotion. Each time I stay here, something breaks. If it's not the microwave, it's the TV. If not the TV, there's an ant infestation. It's quite frankly so unbelievable that he qualifies for me to live there, even if only once a month. The only upside to the split custody arrangement is being able to physically see my father. When I'm at mom's house he doesn't do anything. So being at his house makes me feel a little more connected to him. I must admit, I like dad a little better. He's funnier and more in tune with me. He doesn't nag me like mom does and he's more lenient. For better or for worse.

Me and dad walk up the metal stairs. I'm getting soaked from the massive rain cloud above us. Dad's apartment doesn't have an elevator, so we have to use the external stairs. It's like a crappy motel room. "How was your date?" dad asks me. His voice is tired, he works nights. And through the darkness I can see his tired eyes and faint smile. "It wasn't a date. We're just working on a project."

We get inside after dad fiddles with the key and Barren is waiting for me. I rub his furry little head and push him off me. Even if me and Rachel did have a date, I wouldn't tell dad. He still recalls his romance with mom as his most rewarding fling, and I wouldn't take his advice because... well, look at him. He's a thirty-eight-year-old who's divorced and living in a motel-apartment with split custody over his oldest kid. There's no way I'm taking advice from him.

"A project you say?" Dad leans across the counter, beer in hand. His smile is wide. "Code for something?" I scoff.

"You're disgusting," I tell him. He's that type of dad. Waiting for his kid to 'score.'

"I'm just saying, even if you don't tell me, I know how these types of things go." Dad sips his drink.

"Sure, you do." I grab myself a water bottle from the fridge and then go into my bedroom. Barren follows behind closely on my heels. I greet Mary who's reading a book on her bed. She hums and then squeals when Barren jumps on her bed and laps at her face. "Barren!" she calls out. "Elijah, get your dog!" I shrug and throw myself onto my mattress. Mary, being the youngest gets the better stuff. She's got more space in our room, more leniency and her sides decorated. Not that I mind, because I don't stay here all that often, but I notice it. There's also only one bedroom in this apartment, that's why dad sleeps on the couch.

Mary's side of the room is pink. Not the light pink like Rachel, bright pink. Hot pink if you will. She's got a bookshelf that she's always rearranging, and we share the desk. She's even got a proper bedframe and not just a mattress on the floor. Meanwhile, I have a nightstand and live out of a suitcase. I slide my pants off and hang around in my T-shirt and boxers because I don't feel like unpacking and Mary groans. "Gross dude. Puts some pants on." I roll my eyes. "I'm going to sleep. Turn the lights out."

I'm in dads apartment getting ready for my date. Rachel decided it would be fun to go to the park and walk the walking trail. I don't care what we do. I'm just happy I have a hot date with a hot girl. And while I'm in our shared bathroom I'm realizing that this is the first real date I've been on. Which means that all my knowledge comes from the romcoms that mom watches and the crappy advice Mary and dad give me. I'm going to go to her house, pick her up, take her out and then drop her back home at a respectable time so her parents don't forever hate me.

Mary and Dad surround me in the cramped bathroom, yelling out tips and stuff. Dad tells me all the things I should and shouldn't do but I'm not listening because clearly, his marriage didn't last. Dad's also getting ready to go to work, but he's letting me have the bathroom. I let Mary pick out my outfit. A blue polo shirt and khakis. I just know Rachel's going to walk out of her house in something stunning, so I want to look nice. Even though inevitably I'll always be outshined. And surprisingly Mary's good at all that fashion stuff. But then again, all girls are good at fashion stuff. Or so I've been told. Mary even tells me to put some hair gel in my hair.