No Turning Back (Rewrite)

Chapter 3

"Diving clothesline," Donny exclaimed. "Whew! That has to hurt!"

I tore my eyes away from my novel and glanced at him.

The light from the television illuminated his smile as he yelled out another wrestling move. On most nights, I'd tell him to be quiet or kick him off the couch. But tonight, I let him yell. I couldn't concentrate anyway. All I could think about was my rude comments to Jayden and a strategy to retract them. Although he wasn't a threat to my reputation, I didn't want him to think I was a cruel person. After all, we did have to work together over the course of the semester. It'd be in my best interest to apologize, so we could be cordial.

Steady footsteps padded through the hallway towards the living room. My father's burly figure appeared in the doorway. With a firm line on his lips, he glanced between the glowing television and the novel in my hands. He doesn't smile when he's home. His face was perpetually neutral unless I've done something magnificent, or stupid, enough to summon a different expression.

"Daniel," he called.

"Yes."

"We're going out tonight – the two of us."

I raised an eyebrow. "What about Donny?"

"I've already called Jennifer. She's on her way."

Donny's smile fell at the reference of his babysitter. He looked to me with pleading eyes.

"I promised Donny I'd watch wrestling with him tonight," I lied. "Sorry."

His gaze grew icy. "It wasn't a request, Daniel." He nodded towards the stairwell. "Get dressed. Now." His figure disappeared back down the hall.

A sigh escaped my lips. "I'm sorry, bud," I told my brother.

He glued his gaze to his lap. "It's okay."

I scooted closer to him and set a hand on his shoulder. "Tomorrow, we'll go out. Just the two of us."

"And do what," Donny solemnly asked.

"Well, I was thinking we could do some Dave and Buster's action."

He looked up to me with a smile. "Really?"

I held out my pinky finger. "I promise."

He sealed the pact with his own finger.

I rubbed his head with my hand before I finally got up.

Reluctantly, I substitute my comfortable sweatpants for jeans and a dress shirt. At times like this, I used to be overjoyed with thoughts of one-on-one time with my father. I would fantasize about the conversations we'd have, the laughs we'd share, and the agreements we could come to. There were a few times, I truly thought I could confide in him about the thoughts swarming through my mind. But, every time, I was only taken to some absurd get together with his friends. I know this time won't be any different.

I was proven correct when we arrived at a small tavern with all his colleagues' cars in the parking lot. When we step inside, I'm immediately engulfed in the smell of hot wings and the loud chatter of my father's colleagues. They're all gathered around the round tables on the right side of the tavern. Each man's hands were holding a beer bottle, or a short glass filled with brown liquor. Their booming laughter erupted from the current story being dramatically narrated.

A switch flipped in my father's brain at the sight of the gathering. A smile bloomed on his face, and his eyes lit up with charisma. He ambled towards his colleagues and joined the party. He's welcomed with pats on the backs, handshakes, and a short glass filled with whiskey.