Charade

Benji

The world rushed by the car window, swooping by too fast to see, as we drove through the chaotic city and back to Vic's apartment. We were both silent and comfortable in the quietness. I fiddled with my hands on my lap. I kept thinking about the last night I saw my parents. It replayed over and over in my head on a constant loop, bringing with it forty different emotions each time, until all of them were tangled and messy and burned a hole right into my gut. And then I knew I had to tell Vic. After the way he'd fought for me, defended me, protected me... he deserved to know the truth.

"It started in year nine," I blurted out, a jumble of words falling into a silent car. Vic glanced at me sideways, almost surprised, but it was too late to take the words back now. I had to keep going.

"I met a girl named Jacinta," I told him. "She was crazy, like no other girl I'd met before. She wasn't scared of anything or anyone, and I liked that. I mean, I spent my whole life scared of everyone, and she just didn't give a fuck. So on the weekends, I'd sneak out and find her. We'd get drunk, smoke something illegal, do all sorts of things that could land us in Juvie. It was fun, you know? She was just as fucked up as me. It was nice having someone who... could relate. Who wanted to just go crazy and forget our lives for a while. Someone who didn't want anything from me."

"Anyway, we got really, really shitfaced this one night and next thing you know, I wake up naked beside her in some stranger's bed and I can't remember anything from the night before. I mean, it wasn't the first time I'd forgotten a whole night or slept with some girl I hadn't meant to, but this time it was different. She texted me a few weeks later. Told me she was pregnant and it was mine. And you saw my parents. Paranoid church-goers who cared way too much about what our neighbours thought of us. The kind of people who never swore and didn't like the truth and didn't care if I was happy, just as long as I was either pre-med or pre-law, just like my brother. The night I told them, they told me they wished I was never born, that I was a mistake. That I was useless and hopeless and worthless. And so I left."

Silence filled the car, as thick and fast as water. I cracked my knuckles, trying to avoid looking at Vic. I felt sick in the stomach just thinking about that night. The way I'd believed every word they said, even if I didn't admit it. Useless, hopeless, and worthless. Seemed about right. At least, back then it did.

"People like your parents are often so blinded by what they think is right, they can't see what they're doing is wrong." Vic told me. "They were probably brought up around the same rules and opinions, and they probably believe they owe their success to that, which is why they enforced it on you."

"So telling me I'm worthless is just totally fine, then?"

"No," Vic said automatically, meeting my eye for quick second. "Not at all. I'm simply trying to help you understand why they did what they did. But saying that to your child... it is inexcusable. I don't care how mad I am or how hurt I might be, I'd never say that to my daughter. Never. And if I did, I'd never forgive myself. But Benjamin, a lot has changed since then. Have you ever thought about... trying to fix what is broken?"

"Nope," I said. "I don't wanna fix shit. I just wanna move on from it. I wanna forget about it."

"Benjamin," Vic said in that annoyingly serious tone, "you won't move on from it or forget about it until you've talked about it with them."

"Well, I don't want to talk about it," I snapped, defences flipping up.

Vic stayed silent for a long moment and I felt the guilt slowly sink in.

"Vic, I'm sorry, I didn't mean – "

"I know," he said. "I understand."

"It's just... i-if I did work it out with them, you know, if I could be close with them again... it wouldn't last. I'd get sick of pretending to be polite and good and all that shit and they would say something bad about me and I just... I can't let them hurt me again, Vic. I just... I just can't."