Hidden Abnormality

6. Disappointment

Chapter Six

 
  I gripped the steering wheel tightly. Jaz sat in the passenger seat nervously. She kept opening her mouth as if to speak to me, but always shut it upon a glance at my face.

  I wasn't mad. I was nowhere near mad. Upset, maybe. How could I be mad at her? She was just venting her frustrations out at school. It was not a very good thing to do, yet she did it.

  "Could you just say something?" she finally huffed.

  "I get a half-day at work today because my little sister was found dunking girl's heads in dirty toilets at her school. On top of that," I emphasized, "she switched my contact number to one of her friends' so I wouldn't know about it."

  "I didn't -"

  "The only reason I got a call today was because the old secretary noticed the number had been written over like an amateur and wanted to call my 'old' number to make sure I had changed it. She is such a sweet lady."

  "Marco, listen to me."

  I pressed the brake pedal at the red light. "No, Jazabelle. We are going to have a talk at home. At my apartment. I don't want to hear a peep out of you until then. Do you understand me, young lady?"

  She twisted her fingers in her hand. "Yes, Marco."

  The drive was otherwise silent. It gave me a lot of time to think about what I wanted to discuss with her. I knew she was rebelling because of her situation, but I liked to believe that I was making it easier. That it wasn't such a bad life being forced to live with her busy older brother.

  Maybe I hadn't noticed how much she was truly struggling. Maybe I was too busy.

  We arrived at my apartment complex and we got out of my car. The time it took to get to my apartment was just as silent. Except for the occasional quiet hello to a neighbour.

  Jazzy shut the door behind her and wouldn't face me as she slipped off her shoes. I took off my own shoes and walked into the kitchen. I sat down at the table, in the chair against the wall. It took a little while for her to follow me and sit across from me.

  "Jazzy. Jaz, look at me."

  She lifted her green eyes and looked at me. She looked ready to cry. "Yeah," she stammered.

  "I'm not mad," I said softly.

  "You're not?" She wiped at her eye and hiccupped.

  I shook my head. "I'm not mad, Jazabelle."

  She started to sob. "How can you not be mad?" It took her a long time to ask. She was sobbing and hiccuping, which hindered her speech.

  "Stop crying, Jazzy."

  "Don't... tell m-me to stop. It makes... me f-feel fake."

  I placed my palms on the table. "I'm not mad at you, but I am upset. And I need you to stop crying so we can have a calm conversation. Can you do that?"