A Teenage Love: A Coming of Age Story

Part I - Chapter 1 - No Content

2006

Ryan. I grew up with the idea that love was some fucked up shit. I never really understood why people stayed in relationships with more blows being thrown than kisses, more fighting than laughing. It was too shaky, too hard to predict and way too hard to manage. My cousin Kris spent her teenage years getting her ass beat by some Lake City player and my father juggled so many women I'm surprised he ain't been found with a knife in his chest. I heard about heartbreak and I swore I would never find me.

I hadn't seen my father in a year and a half, but when he did show up on my side of town, nothing was new but the car he was driving and the woman in the passenger seat. The wrapper was always sparkling, glowing, and reflecting success, but the contents never matched the package. He whipped through the parking lot like he was the only one in route. That's how he lived, like he was the only one on the road.

I thought I recognized his young passenger, but this one was new. It's like he got to a point every year or so where good weather just wasn't good enough. He wanted to turn still waters into a hurricane just to see if his household can withstand the damage. He married his first wife at 22, right out of college. The six month mark was where he started getting lost on the way home. She was the eye for an eye type and Rodney wasn't in it if he didn't hold the power. They divorced a year later. That was marriage number one.

My mom stuck it out way longer than she should have. She admitted that later, but too many years had been wasted by then. I heard the arguments some nights. Most nights I was in the streets. Between my weed and alcohol induced comas, I heard about the affairs. Back then, I didn't think their marital problems had any effect on me. Now that I think about it, I was avoiding those fights, did everything in my power not to hear them.

I found my mother in shambles on the kitchen floor one night. It's a hard image to forget, a strong woman so broken down. With my brother leaving for college that year and my mom in pieces, I had a lot of room to get into things I had no business getting into. I didn't understand how another human being could suck all the strength out of you to the point where nothing but time could heal you. I saw the way she slammed doors and the way her feet hit the floor. My mother was never an angry woman. Bad love made her an angry woman—and that made me an angry kid.

Wife number three is currently in season. He went home to them when he was sworn out of ours. He forgot all about us and started a new family and a bigger house and a better city. Karma is a real motherfucker though. I wonder if he knew it.

Since I didn't have anything to say to him, I hopped in my car. It was just my luck that my engine wouldn't even jump. I cranked her again, but she didn't budge.

I slammed the door with all my might then went in to tell the guy at the counter not to tow my shit. He told me I had an hour and Rodney wasted about fifteen seconds with bullshit small talk.

"Son."

I turned around. Did he call me that because he couldn't remember my name?

"How you doin'?"

I gave him a nod on my way back to the car.

"Need a lift?"