The Year I Turned 20

2 (Leave Me)

"Hey, uhm. Thanks again," I said to Thomas as I closed the door to the awkwardest carride in the history of automobile transportation. What was that even? Neither one of us wanted to talk. I tried to break the silence and he just put up his hand. "Uhm, normal people usually listen to music  in the car... the whole concept of radio, ya know. Music..." I say without looking at him. "Hey, my car, my rules. I don't need to explain myself to you, but I don't listen to music in the car. It's like my own meditation and I sit in silence. My only alone time okay... and yet I still hear you talking," he spat back. "Okay," I let out. That was the end of that conversation.

I told him to drop me off at the park, which was a good 3 streets down from my house. I wasn't gonna let some stranger creep by knowing my home address. I watched his car disappear as he turned onto the main road and I started walking... slowly.

My hangover was luckily disappearing and the sunlight didn't bother me as much. "I wonder what my parents are gonna do to me this time?" I thought aloud. Here's the thing about my parents, they're a gorgeous, well-known couple in the community. Barely a wrinkle on their faces in their late 40s, which surprises me cause of all the sh*t I put them though. Don't worry, I'll get there. They own a locally appraised Italian restaurant and a bakery. Best part of their companies: they donate all the unbought food to the local food shelter. They're f*cking angels, aren't they? And don't get me started on the whole Jesus thing. They're Jesus freaks, I swear. They do daily prayers, my dad is in the Knights of Columbus, and my mom volunteers with other Catholic mothers. The whole sha-bang. 

So, I bet you're wondering, "how the f*ck did I turn out so sh*tty?" Well, here's the thing... I don't know.

My parents tried registering me in Catholic school when I was five, but I was what people would call a "troublemaker." I got kicked out the first week. Let's just say they didn't like my attitude. We'll leave it at that.

Trust me, I believe in something. Give me credit, I do have faith. I just don't know what it is. I've had my fair share of going to church. C'mon I've had a clean record of going every week. And yes, I listen to the homily. Trust me. I just... I don't even know, okay. Well that was until 3 years ago. I never had "friends" but I did hang out with some sh*t people. Started getting hungover every Saturday night and couldn't bear to go to the Sunday morning masses. The first time I missed mass, my parents forgave me. Then I started missing every other week, and I guess they got tired of my sh*t. They didn't "give up" on me, they just hated the feeling of being a disappointment of parents. 

And yes, that is ALL my fault. I COULD change, but I hate change.

Oh, and yeah, I have a brother. Older brother to be exact. You could say he's pretty perfect too. Straight A student all his life, had a fullride scholarship for his athletics, attends mass every week, even teaches a weekly Bible study class. Oh and yeah, he's 25, married, and is a doctor. Perfect, right?

So again, how did I get jacked up? Here's the thing... I swear I'm adopted. I swear it. Problem is, I DO resemble my parents. I have my mom's gorgeous big brown eyes and my dad's perfect nose.  But put together, I fricken look like a monkey. I'm NOT pretty. And I got used to that, ages ago. My parents tried to mold me into a perfect child like they've done with my brother Adam, but me as a project was definitely a failure. 

I'm 19, been to two colleges already... and not for good reasons. I got kicked out of the first one for sh*tty grades and "accidentally" was caught with another professor. Hey, I thought he was a student. "He" should have known better. But trust me, I didn't do anything stupid. Whether or not you believe I still have my v card is your discretion. End of that. Oh and I also had an epic job. I didn't want to work at either of my parents' restaurants, so I opted for retail. I'm not that much of a d*ck. Of course I don't want to ruin the family name. They've been good to me. I would've been kicked out years ago for all the stupid sh*t I've done. But they always forgive me... always. They... love me. I did get fired from my first retail job because I was caught smoking marijuana. Hey, they said smoking break. They should've been clearer. Getting my second job was a little harder though. My record was all effed up with the cr*ppy grades and being fired, so my dad had to write in a good note for me. The owner of the retail store was good friends with my dad, both in the Knights of Columbus. Again, I AM thankful. 

Oh and I mustn't forget to tell you the best part. Every time I come home late, my parents just make sure I'm okay. I get a lecture, but they never "punish" me.

So I reach my house and take a deep breath. I take the keys out of my pocket, but pause when I hear my mom crying inside. I place my ear on the door to hear better. I hear my dad's voice go coarse as he tries to console my mother. I think to myself, 'Is this my fault?' I turn around to look at the driveway and realize something's missing: my brother's car. He always drives down from Connecticut with his wife. 

I take in a deep breath, and finally open the door. Two pairs of swelling, blood shot eyes stare at me. Part disappointment, like they were hoping I were someone else, but part relief, like I'm okay. It's the first time my mom yells at me, "Why didn't you call us?" Tears cascade down her cheek. "You always call us when you're out late, even if it is a drunk call home," my dad finishes it. The two cough and catch their breath. 

"I'm sorry. I'm here now. Where's Adam," I ask frantically. Everything feels different... weird. Adam is always here on New Year's Eve and New Year's Day.  I see both shake their head as tears continue rushing down. 

"Your brother's not coming... He's dead," my dad finally rushes out.

I shake my head in shock. "What kind of sick joke is this? Just because I didn't call," I choke out. My mom gets up from her chair and walks over to me. "What? Your father and I love you. We would never lie to you," she says and hugs me so tight. "Your brother's dead. They found his body last night in the lake. A drunk driver hit their car," she spits out.

I then remember Janie... how just last month she announced her first pregnancy... I imagine she's dead too.