Growing Pains

Chapter 42 - I'm plagued by childhood trauma

L U K E

I was studying, or trying to, when my dad walked into my bedroom, without knocking, as usual. I closed the YouTube tab on my computer, and opened the document where I had already changed the type font to Times New Roman and the size to 12. I had been happy enough with that progress to give myself a break.

My dad asked, "What are you doing?"

I pointed at the computer screen, "Spanish project."

He said the obvious, "There's nothing on there."

"I just started." I had started half an hour ago.

"You were on YouTube just seconds ago."

I pretended I was insulted, and said, "No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were, because I literally saw you closing the tab."

I crossed my arms over my chest, "That's impossible because –"

He did the same, "Don't start."

"I'm not –"

"Don't you have anything to tell me?"

I threw my arms in the air, "Fine, I was on YouTube –"

"I know. That's not what I'm talking about."

I frowned, "Then what are you talking about?

"I just got a call from Meredith Allen."

"I don't know who that is."

"That's Jason Allen's mother. I'm sure you know who that is."

"He's my best friend." 

"I need you to stop with the jokes."

"I literally can't."

"You can, and you will," he stopped me, rolling his eyes before saying, "Anyway, Mrs. Allen called to apologize for her son's behavior, because apparently, he got in a fight with you at school. Of course I had to pretend I knew about this, because apparently, you decided not to tell me –"

"I told you about the fight!" I stopped him. "The same day it happened I told you. You asked how my day was, and I said I got in a fight, and you laughed –"

"I thought you were joking." 

"Why would I be joking?" He was going to say I always joking.

"You're always joking," he said, and he was right. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Mrs. Allen feels very bad about the whole thing, and she wants to make it up to you, so she invited you to spend the weekend at their lake house, which I thought was very nice of her, so I said you were going."

I sat up straight on my chair, "Why would you say that?"

Dad wasn't impressed, "Because you're going."

"I'm not," I said.

"You are," he said.

"Why would I want to spend the weekend with the guy who tried to punch me in the –"

"Why did he try to punch you in the first place?"

I shrugged, "He asked me to go to prom with him and I said no."

"That's not funny."

"I agree." Except I thought it wasn't funny because homosexuality shouldn't really be a punchline, and dad thought it wasn't funny because of something I would rather not think about ever.

"Luke," he said. He was wearing one of my plaid shirts or maybe I had been wearing one of his all this time. I didn't care. It was a nice shirt. The look on my dad's face, however, wasn't very nice at all.