Karma

Chapter 13

Tonight was supposed to be a good night.

A perfect night.

It was a night ruined by four words.

Small phrases are what break people.

Saying them.

Not saying them.

With Dean, my lack of "I love you's" were what tore us apart.

My dad muttered a "I can't do this anymore." before he walked out the front door, his whole life packed into a U-haul truck.

Now my mom has shattered me with "You aren't even his."

It shouldn't matter because, for the last nine years, I haven't been  his. But it does matter. It's the difference between having 'daddy  issues' and not.

Maybe my dad never meant that he couldn't do it anymore when it came to me. He may have been head over heels in love with my mom, and I was just a tender spot to touch on every once in a while.

"Who's this?" I finally open my eyes, thankful that I haven't poured  all my emotions out of my eyeballs. Cameron's mom wraps a dark purple  shawl around her shoulders before wedging her way between me and Cameron  on the couch. "Well?"

I should probably speak up and introduce myself properly, but my  voice was lost somewhere in my room. Maybe it was from screaming so  loudly or maybe it was because my mom took everything I knew away from  me within two seconds.

It could also be that Dean drained the last bit of strength left in me.

"She's the neighbor, mom."

I can't even muster the energy to add that said neighbor also has a name.

"You know, Sarah's daughter."

At that her eyes go wide. She must be remembering our first  encounter. How she was able to forget that I went single white female on  some girl in my kitchen is beyond me.

"Oh, right." The judgemental look on her face makes my jaw clench.  "Are you--" She looks between me and Cameron, then a breath of relief  passes her lips when Mr. Shaw appears in the room, buttoning the last  two buttons of his collared shirt. "Oh, Richard. Good. This is-"

Thankfully, I register that she's expecting me to answer instead of her Cameron, so I say, "Karma. My name's Karma."

She already puckers up her best sour face towards me because of first impressions, but I don't tell her that my views on her aren't any better. I don't let her know that her ping pong game with her marriage is selfish. Instead I let her think that she's better than me and my mom.

"Karma." She tests my name out and only seems more put off by it than before. "Hmm, interesting name."

I can almost see her eyes roll back into their sockets. She must  think we're all a bunch of acid tripping hippy's that name their kids  after a fortune cookie reading. But that's the furthest thing from the  truth. My mom watched a movie once, where the main character's name was  Karma. She liked it enough to give me the name.

She's never really been one to think things through.

"Okay. Rich, this is Karma." My name does little to soften the frown lines scattered all over his face.

He mimics the same screwed up face as his wife, and once again I refrain from letting them know that they're no better than me. I glance at the clock and see that it's well past midnight, which may have something to do with them not wanting me here.