The Bad Boy across the hall

Chapter 1: Moving Out

I sit at my laptop working on my applications; I can't take them anymore. Them being my parents. Don't get me wrong, I love them, and they love me. They have always been there for me. Though my dad is an FBI agent who is rarely home and my mom's a surgeon, and equally, not home, they always make time for me, and I have managed to collect quite an allowance from them over the years. I've told them a thousand times that I didn't need it. I knew they had their jobs and hundreds of people who depend on them each day to save their lives, but their guilt eats at them, and they've raised four grand or so every year after I turned fifteen and started buying groceries and things for myself. My dad pulled a few strings to get my license, and unbelievably I can go to bars and clubs. It was a guilt thing, but he refused to admit it. He says it's because he knows I'm responsible and that he and my mom can trust me no matter what, and that he would rather I drive where I'm going than ride a bus or a cab. My problems with them have nothing to do with me, actually. I hear my mom's car pull into the garage, and I shut my laptop. I then hear dad's truck pull in the driveway; he must not be staying long. I get up and head downstairs. I am too late they are already at it, this is why I can't stay here anymore.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, and I've been trying to call you all day to check in. I talked to Shadow every time I could not reach you!" I hear my dad yell.

"I've been in surgery all day. I didn't have my phone on me. Why didn't you call the hospital?!" Mom counters. She is always accusing dad of not really working when he leaves for days.  It's gotten ancient after three years, and at this point, I wouldn't even be mad if he was; she's that bad.

"I did, and they told me you were with a patient, and they would notify you that I called. You act like I don't know they gave you at least one fucking break!" He throws back.

"Yes, they did, and after six hours in surgery, all I wanted to do was sleep. I went to get coffee, and I passed out in the lounge."

"Yet somehow, it's still my fault I couldn't check-in. You know, I know you listened to the messages unless you didn't just to be evil purposely, but I know you saw them every hour on the hour just like you asked."

"You still should have fucking called!" My mom's so childish, and I've had enough. They are so wrapped in their argument that they never noticed that I had come into the kitchen.

"I fucking did, and I know you saw that too; I don't know what made you such an evil, vindictive bitch! I miss my fucking wife." He says, defeated.

"Ok, you two fucking enough. You guys act like fucking teenagers, and I'm twenty now, soon to be twenty-one. When are you going to grow up, damn it?" They look at me with sad eyes, but I don't feel like this today. They are going to hear all I have to say this time. "Don't look at me like that, mom. This whole mess is your fault; you asked the man to check in every hour on the hour. Do you even realize how selfish that is, and he does no matter what cuz he loves you? Lord knows I hope it doesn't happen for real, but what are you going to do that day that he's calling to check-in, and it gets him killed. You don't or can't answer the phone in the first place, and then when you see he did as you asked regardless, you still have a bitch fit. Why? Because you know your wrong or to hide your own guilt." She looks down at her hands as she often does when I fuss.

"But-

"No, buts mom, he did his job, and you can't blame him for not doing yours. I'm going to say it because I know that he won't. I'm pretty sure that the thought hasn't even crossed his mind, and to make it worse, he probably won't again after I say this but, one would be inclined to think that you are the one having an affair, mom." That struck a nerve.

"How dare you-"

"No, mother, how fucking dare you, don't try to get upset and take offense. It makes you look guilty. You're the one who started accusing dad three years ago, and every day since, your the one who always misses check-ins. Why is that even if you were tired at work, you knew he called or should have? It takes two seconds to call and say, hey, hon, thanks for checking in. I'm on my break but tired. I'm going to nap while I have the time. That's all the HELL YOU HAD TO DO!!" I am starting to get really pissed. " I've thought you were probably the one having an affair after you continued to accuse him going into the second year. And if you ever do find out he has had one, I'll bet my whole bank account that it didn't start till after you started accusing him and who could blame him." I see the hurt in her eyes, but it feels good to finally get it off my chest, well, some of it anyway. I sigh, "You know what? I have had enough of you to act like children, and I'm stuck acting like the parent." I watch as the hurt crosses their face, not today, sorry. "You guys are always down each other's throats, and I have had enough of it. I'm moving out! I shout and storm to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. I pop in my headphones and go back to my laptop. I check my email to see that I did get the apartment I applied for, and I have an interview with one of the places I applied. That's wonderful; I started making my plan to move two months ago when mom came home with her usual bullshit, but this time she actually had hit my dad, and him being the tank he is, just let her, no I knew he wouldn't hurt her, but I would've sat on her till the phone rang. I shut down my computer and turn it in for the night.