Teenage Troubles (Prequel for Teenage Baby)

Chapter 7 | Aaron

Chapter 7 | Aaron

If there were one reason David bothered to brush Aaron's hair, it was because he didn't want people wondering why the boy was left unkempt like that.

"She sent you back to me because she's tired of you," David said as he slowly let the comb rake through black tangles. "Even your mom doesn't want you. She doesn't love you, or else she wouldn't have left you like that."

  Aaron sat in front of the dresser with his shoulders slumped and his ankles crossed. He watched himself in the mirror. He knew what he looked like but he desperately wanted to distract himself. There were questions whirling in his head faster than the speed of light and they demanded answers but Jannette wasn't there and he figured he'd rather leave them unanswered than wonder.

  He'd wondered before, the day she left and the second his dad posed those accusations that she'd abandoned him. And it had ended up with his little soul a vagabond in labyrinths of floors strewn with his broken heart and dead ends stamped: left behind!

"Not even uncle Joe loves you, does he? Nah. Because if he did he would've kept you with him. But you know why he didn't? Because he's selfish like Jannette and doesn't want to spend his money on you."

"But they don't have enough money," Aaron countered. Please let it be true, he thought. "That's why they sent me back. Mom told me. She loves me—"

"Bullshit. Since when do you leave someone you love? She's lying. She has money. And if she doesn't, she can fix it. It's just that she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to waste her money on you. She wants to have fun and go out."

Aaron would be convinced by now if it hadn't been for his mom's face the day he left clinging to his eyes like a subtle trace of dirt that refused to be cleaned. He couldn't see past it. The shake to her hands, the hollow inward curve of her cheeks. The tears and the sniffles. Weren't those signs of sadness?

"But she was crying, she wasn't happy." The moment Aaron closed his mouth he hissed at the harsh yank on his hair. David tugged his hair like that as a signal that every time he tried to disagree with him, he'd be hurt. Stable and simple, a formula made to be respected and never broken. Aaron sensed that the timing of the tug wasn't pointless.

"Crocodile tears, son. Crocodile tears. Know what that means? They're not true. She wants to make you think she was sad. Guess what? I'm sure the moment you left she had a big party."

When Aaron didn't respond, neither with a nod nor a shake of his head, David daintily eased the comb through the tangles without causing a single throb. Agree and you'll be safe; that was what he meant with the gentle strokes. Aaron focused on the mirror again. Behind his head stood David, focusing on his hair with an enigmatic grin stretched across his thin lips. Aaron found it hideous. He wanted to stick his tongue out at him while he was looking away but he didn't find the energy in him.

  His bones were tired of the distant aches. His nerves were tired of standing tight and tense on end. He was tired of waiting for his mom to return. When he looked out of the window to his left, the sun was hanging midst the sky. Far, so far. Just like his mom was. But maybe the sun was closer than he'll ever be to her again. Maybe it was a tease, how the sun could see them both but they couldn't see each other.

  If it were possible, Aaron grimaced even more. David noticed that but he didn't understand why. He didn't understand what went on in his little head, and if he was being honest he didn't care enough. All he wanted was for him to hate Jannette.