Whispering Tempest

Chapter Three - Whisper, Whisper

Chapter Three – Whisper, Whisper

Pebbles crunch under my tires as I ease the car around the bend. My headlights have been turned off a block ago by the graveyard hoping to be as unnoticeable as I can be. It doesn't help that the sky is starting to lighten and the sun is on the brink of rising. The driveway to the house is just in sight on the middle of our borderline-suburbs block. My toes barely press on the gas trying to climb the small incline to my driveway. Turning the car off, I rest my forehead on the steering wheel and sigh. The first terror of my night is over.

Getting home on a weekend night is a nightmare. Police are always on the lookout and I’m a new teen driver with just enough alcohol to fail the very big test one should never fail. I wipe the sweat from the back of my neck and grab my bag from the passenger seat. An uneasy walk leads me to the front entrance to my latest house of which I quickly scurry inside. Every light is off making my lips break into a smile. It’s time to find my loyal and glorious bed.

“Get in the living room,” a startling voice whispers. “Now!”

I barely suppress a yelp from the large man at the top of the steps. With my heart pounding, sleep seems further and further away. I grumble back to the front room as Scott storms down after me careful not to wake Michelle. His heavier steps make more noise than mine and I’m not even trying to keep quiet. I flop on the worn out leather couch as he descends the last few stairs in a huff.

“Where the hell were you tonight?” His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose while his other hand waves me off. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. But there are rules in this house and one of them is that if I say stay home, you stay home!”

His large robe sleeves waver with every emphasizing point he softly yells at me. Scott’s face sports an intense shade of pink from the anger boiling in him and from not wanting to wake Michelle, the younger foster girl living here. All I hear is blah, blah, blah, how dare you disobey? Blah, blah, blah, there are rules. Blah, blah. Blah, blah. Scott has never been one for reprimanding before I came along so the concept of punishment is still fairly new.

And yet I know he’s right. A lump catches in my throat and heat rises up my neck and cheeks. I sit forward, not finding any comfort from the disrespect he probably feels when I lie back. My lip can’t help from quivering in disappointment at myself. Scott is a good guy; one of the best ‘dads’ I've had. He doesn't deserve the antics I put him through, even if it was a big school party. My eyes gaze at the floor with embarrassment. I hate it when I disappoint him.

“I’m sorry,” I say with a break in my voice. He overlooks my genuine emotion and carries on with his hushed ranting.

“I had to take off of work tomor— excuse me. I had to take off of work today just so I can be here to make sure you actually come home and not roaming the streets with the delinquents you call best friends.” I stare at him heatedly at the remark of Katie and Xander. They may have ‘too much fun’ but I’m the instigator half of the time. Scott takes my silent warning and skips over the can of worms he was about to unleash.

“Your bad behavior comes back to me,” he whispers more mildly. “I’m here to help you and you’re not even grateful enough to stay in when I tell you to.”

And that’s the stab that reaches my heart. It physically pains me to know I let him down. Scott sighs and rubs his temples. My hands reach automatically for my purse from the punishment I know he’s going to give. After digging it out in the silence, I hand him my key to his car followed by my beloved music player. He takes both in his hand and stuffs them into his robe’s pocket.

“Just try to listen,” he begs me pitifully. “Please?”

I nod and keep my eyes to the floor. My foster dad looks around the room and exhales loudly, finally done with his anger. He claps his hands in front of him and gestures me to the stairs, hoping this time I’ll take the hint and ask him about a party before going.