Baby Fat

twenty-three

Right away, Bradley can tell something is off.

The moment he steps into his house, he gets this feeling. It's almost instinctual, which is more than odd. Especially when he notices unfamiliar shoes on the mat next to his mother's heels.

Bradley throws his backpack on the couch in their foyer and heads to the kitchen. He has the most trouble deciding on whether or not he wants to have a snack.

He thinks back to what he ate today: a power bar at breakfast, bottle of water for lunch, and an apple in the car on the way home. He's not really hungry. Maybe a tad bit, but he opts just to let his stomach grumble until dinner.

With a sigh, he closes his refrigerator door. He huffs his way up the steps to his bedroom when he hears something he probably shouldn't hear.

Moaning.

Coming from his parents room.

It should be impossible because his father isn't home. His mother is the only one here—he saw her car keys on the counter. Right away he texts his dad asking where he is. His dad replies with "out".

It's not supposed to be happening. This shouldn't be happening. This can't be happening. Not to Bradley. Not to his family. None of this should be happening.

Bradley doesn't need to open the bedroom door to know what's going on. He's not a moron. But perhaps he is.

Bradley darts down the stairs at a speed he didn't know he was personally capable of. His heart is hitting his ribs so hard he swears it hurts. His jaw clenches, and his cheeks are hot to the touch.

It's not fair, he thinks, I work my ass off and she does this.

He grips his car keys with one hand and throws the entry way door open with the other. It hits the wall, leaving a dent. He doesn't bother to lose the door, he can't bring himself to care.

He throws his car door open, almost pulling it off it's hinges, and climbs in. He doesn't look behind him as he pulls out of his driveway.

He just doesn't get how she could betray her own family. Her flesh and blood. It's selfish, terribly selfish.

Bradley pulls up in a parking lot of a park. The grass is green, the sun is shinning down on the world with a smile, kids are smiling like they know there will be a good tomorrow. They see the color of the world when everyone else sees the dreadful black and white.

Bradley gets out of his car and walks in the grass. He shoves his hands into his pockets. The ground is watery? His shoes squeak when he takes his steps.

After his walk he finds himself taking a seat on a park bench. The wood is wet, but Bradley can barely feel it through his blue jeans. Bradley wonders how people can cheat and not feel guilty.

How do people risk it all? For a fling of all things! But perhaps the family his mother loves is not all for her. Maybe she's not risking losing them because they are not her everything. What a paralyzingly thought.

The sun goes down before Bradley moves an inch from the park bench. Corrie's in rehab and it's not like Bradley would risk further upsetting him with news like this. And whatever him and Leo has—or had—is far from the "my mother is a lying, cheating, whore" conversation. Not a good topic for a conversation with someone he may possibly like/possibly not. There's no room for a relationship in his life.

Bradley heaves himself off the bench and sulks to his car. He drives himself home to find his mother on the couch, phone in hand, smile on her face.

"Hello, Bradley," she looks up. "Where have you been?"

"Like it matters to you," Bradley snarls. He stomps up the stairs to his bedroom, where he slams the door shut behind him.