Connor entered his house through the garage, hoping to slip by his family. It didn't work quite as he planned. Larry was waiting in the living room again. He stood once Connor walked in the room.
"Connor, you haven't been at school for the past two days. Where the hell have you been?" Larry asked, a hint of panic entering his voice.
Oh you know, I just tried to kill myself. The usual, Connor thought to himself. He made a noncommittal noise and started to shuffle upstairs. He was exhausted.
"Your mother was about to call the police! You didn't answer our texts or calls and nobody else knew where you went," Larry said. Why should Larry care? It wasn't like he would care if Connor had succeeded today. The only reason he wasn't dead this very second was because of Evan. Did Larry even worry about whether or not Connor was okay? No. Not even the slightest bit. Connor snapped.
"You're never there for me, so why should I ever be there for you?" Connor sneered. Larry wouldn't ever care. Why did he even pretend to?
"Your mother and I do the very best for you that we can! We're not perfect, but there isn't exactly a map for how to raise a child. We've been here for you from the very start," Larry said. Lies, lies, lies. All Connor heard were lies. He wanted to scream. He took a deep breath, clenching his fists and closing his eyes.
"Do you even care where I was? Or are you just upset that people will start to talk about how Larry Murphy's son is crazy?" Connor snarled, glaring at his father. Larry crossed his arms, building a wall between them.
"Of course I care! You are throwing away your future,"
"I wasn't getting wasted."
"Then where were you?"
"At the park."
"At the park? Is that where you meet your dealer?"
"No! It's not. I was..." Connor didn't know how to tell his father.
"You were what? Getting high? Drinking? You know, you're going to destroy your--"
"I tried to commit suicide!" Connor said. His fists trembled at his sides. Larry looked at him as if Connor killed a puppy.
"What?" Larry said.
"I tried to kill myself," Connor said. He laughed nervously, trying to disguise the waver in his voice.
"Connor, I had no idea. I--"
"No. I guess you didn't know. I guess you weren't around enough to know. No one was ever there," Connor said. He stomped up the stairs, not letting himself cry in front of Larry. Then his stomach growled. He stomped back down the stairs past Larry and into the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed one of his mom's Buddha bowls and a fork, and marched back up to his room, not making eye contact with his father.
The door closed behind Connor, isolating him from the rest of his family. Connor sat down on his bed and opened the Tupperware in his hands. The pungent curry smell infiltrated Connor's nostrils. He poked the contents of the Buddha bowl with his fork. It seemed edible enough. He put a bite in his mouth. It tasted alright. It was a little spicy, but not too bad. If Connor had eaten more than an apple in the past 24 hours, it might have been a little less welcome, but it didn't taste too bad to Connor and his ravenous appetite.
After polishing off the remainder of the bowl's contents, Connor tossed it aside. He would rinse it in the morning. Or not. He would rise it the next time he felt like it. His mom would probably find it and rinse it herself before Connor got around to rinsing the bowl.
It wasn't that late, but Connor was exhausted. He did try to kill himself today. That had to be at least a little emotionally taxing, right? He wanted to climb right into bed, but decided to change clothes. He had been wearing two-day-old clothes that had dirt, grass stains, and potentially traces of vomit on them. It was high time to don a new set of clothes.
As he was pulling on a soft t-shirt, Connor's phone beeped with a notification. That never happened. He didn't post on Instagram or Facebook and even if he did, nobody would follow him. He took his phone off of its charger and opened his notifications. He had a notification from his school email account. He guessed it was some sort of all-school announcement. He sighed and flopped on to his bed. Connor tapped the notification.
Connor knit his eyebrows. It wasn't an email from his school like he expected. It was an email from Evan.
