The Untouchable

Chapter 3: Molly's POV

Oliver was complaining the whole ride home. Maybe I will just give him the front seat tomorrow if he would stop complaining about it. When James parks, I literally jump out of the truck. I can't hear another whiny word that comes out of Oliver's mouth or else I am going to lose it. I open the door to find my dad walking towards me with a suitcase. He looked like his normal tired self, but it seemed like he had more grief. He left the suitcase at the door, and he went back upstairs, completely ignoring me. It isn't unusual for him to not talk to me, but he would usually at least acknowledge my presence. By this time, Oliver and James were behind me. Oliver and I follow our dad back upstairs. He was packing another suitcase.

Oliver and I look at each other, unsure of what to do. "Hey, Dad, is everything okay?" Oliver asks hesitantly. Our dad doesn't like us to disturb him when he is busy, which is basically all the time. This time, he looks extremely busy with something I don't want to believe.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just have to leave for a while," he says without looking at us. He continues to pack.

"Are you and Mom okay?" I ask him. He doesn't respond. His packing slows down a bit. "Dad, what is going on?" He still doesn't respond, but the packing stops. He lifts his head and wipes his face with his hands. He glances at me and Oliver before sitting down and looking at the floor. He takes a moment to think. A moment that causes some panic inside of me. He can't leave, right? He is happy with Mom. They love us all so much. He has yet to come to one of my decathlon competitions and see me win an award. He can't leave yet.

He finally lifts his head to look at us. His eyes were red, something I didn't notice before. "Your mother... and I have decided that it is best if I head out for a while to straighten things out with each other. I don't know when I'll be back. Everything will be fine though," he tells us, but the last part isn't convincing as much I hoped it would be.

"So, you're leaving us," Oliver says, which shortens my breath. He said the words I hoped I wouldn't hear. He said the words that none of us wanted too. Our dad stand back up. "You're leaving us, aren't you? What did you do that makes you have to leave?" Oliver yells, his voice cracks halfway though. Our dad doesn't say anything. "Answer me, what did you do?"

"You're mother is kicking me out," he says and continues to pack. Oliver takes the clothes and throws them out of the suitcase and at him. "James, what do you think you're doing?" He asks, his eyes boring into Oliver's. His voice was rigid, the way he sounded when he was angry.

"Admit to it! Admit to what you did, you dirty piece of-" Oliver says, but he is cut off when our father slaps him. His eyes were now filled with anger instead of tears. "My name's Oliver, not James, you asshole," Oliver says before leaving the room. I'm frozen in shock. I can't comprehend what just happened. My breathing quickens. Everything is coming to me in a big rush.

My dad is being kicked out of the house. My dad just slapped my brother. He did something terrible that I don't want to know. My dad is leaving before he could be proud of me.

I run out of the room wanting some fresh air, a fresh mind, anything to get this out of my head. I run to the backyard where my mother is. She is sitting on the steps of the deck. She has a bottle of wine in her hand, and she is chugging it out of the bottle. I slowly walk up to her. The closer I get, the less blurry she is. I rub my eyes to find myself crying. She can't see me like this. I rub my eyes free of existing tears, and throw on a smile. I take a deep breath before sitting right next to her.

"Do you know how long he's been seeing her for?" my mom asks, obviously drunk. "One year," she laughs. "He's been seeing that other woman for a whole year, and I find out today coming home early from work. He's been lying for one year, and I was stupid enough to believe him," she tells me and takes another swig of wine. I try to take the bottle away from her, but she just swats my hand away and hugs it.