The Wanderers

Chapter 4|| Our Own Personal Hell

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2006 Easton

"You what?" Mom screamed at the top of her lungs. So loud, in fact, I think I saw my bedroom window shake.

"I don't want to go," Dad said, coolly coming out of their bedroom. When he saw me he smiled, shrugged, and walked downstairs.

"You can't just walk away, and pretend everything's okay," Mom continued screaming, as she stormed out of the room still in curlers, and wearing a silky bathrobe. "Just because you had a bad day at work does not mean you can cancel a dinner date that we planned weeks in advance." And from downstairs, I heard them fighting. Elsa's a senior in high school, so anytime this starts up she just leaves. I, on the other hand, get blessed with the simple joy of watching my parents in an all out grudge match.

I heard somewhere that it is unbeneficial to a child to live in a household where the guardians don't get along. I wish they had to heard that; maybe then they would shut up long enough for me to finish my homework, or get a permission slip signed. 

I stared back at the assignment in my hand, but I just wanted to throw it at the wall. I tried once more to read the words, but it was as though they would jump up at me, jumble all around, and then lay flat on the page again. Nothing made sense. I rub my hands over my face, before letting out an annoyed breath. I tried going one word at a time, having to read it multiple times until I finally got the instructions. I checked the clock. 15 minutes later and I finally know how to start my homework! I'm about to explain the social system of the Egypt when my mind beings to wander. 

It's the first of October, meaning, soon a member of the Peterson family will be by to drop off a check, for that month's rent. I've learned their names and a little about them from the times Dad asked me to go with him to fix up the roof or check the installation system. Damien, the oldest, is a senior with my sister. He's usually the one to drop off the check and leaves it under the faded welcome mat. Luke is two grades above me. I had a very nice chat with him the second I stepped on campus in August.

He greeted me as though we were best friends; patting me on the back and bringing his arm around my neck. Then, he pulled me to the side. "Hey, Easton, right?" I nodded. He knows me. I've seen him around, but we have never conversed let alone exchanged names. "I'm Luke, Lacey's older brother, and an eighth grader. Listen, I've heard some things about the way you have treated my little sister, and let me tell you I'm not impressed, so you are going to change your attitude towards her or I'm going to change your social status. Got it?" Again, I nodded like a complete idiot, but what was I supposed to do; tell the truth that I don't hate Lacey anymore. How could I hate her when she's been nothing, but sweet to me. I would push and she would just smile. Heck, she even offered me half her sandwich the day Mom forgot to leave lunch money. I didn't take it; of course, I mean I had an act to uphold. I didn't tell anybody that I no longer hate Lacey, especially not Lance.

After Luke's conversation with me, I began to ignore Lacey. Well not, ignore her, but steer away from her, so I wouldn't feel obligated to say anything, which is hard seeing as we are in practically every class together.

Anyway so now, here I am, sitting on my bed, the noise of an unraveling marriage in the background and social studies homework in front of me. Every once in awhile I can't help, but contemplate what ifs.

What if Dad never got a promotion?

What if Elsa talked to me?

What if I didn't care?

But he did.

She doesn't.

And I do.