31. hurt

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Kaydon

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Kaydon

The car ride was just silent and torturously long. Trees whiz by and the soft music playing in the background made my feet tap to the beat.

It was almost sunset and I wonder what everyone was doing. My heart aches every time I think about her and the way she said those same words to me like she did back then. The way tears started falling out of her eyes almost made me cry. She was broken, hurt. She had to see that again.

You know, I don't get how Harry does it. How he sees his own son, and his friends being ripped away by their other family. Blake has always hated his dad, Harry never really appreciated Blake. It was mutual, Blake said. What hurt most was that whenever those two fought back then, Cameron was somehow stuck in the middle watching them get at each other's throats. Carol wasn't even there to help. Poor little Cameron had to scream for them to stop. Ty and I would try and drag Blake away while Sierra and Parker would comfort Cameron upstairs.

Harry had this favoritism towards me and I hated it. I hated every single moment I had with him. I hate how close he is to me in this car. I hate how he threatened to ruin their lives. I hate how he's so unfair towards the guys. We all know he's all talk.

I was about to close my eyes to just drift off but Harry turns off the music and I turn my gaze towards the radio. "What's on your mind, son?" he asks me with a stupid grin on his face. I almost roll my eyes at his stupidity.

I sit up straighter in my seat and faced the window. "One, stop calling me son," I snap, "And two, don't act like you don't have a single clue." my voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife going through butter. He isn't surprised by my snappy remarks and he relaxes into his seat.

I hear Harry snicker. "Kaydon, you heard me. This is was your only chance!" he takes his sunglasses off and sets down on the little storage opener from the screen in the front of the car. "I'm doing you a favor."

"A favor my ass," I chuckle unamused, rolling my eyes.

"It is a favor. The season is almost here and I want you to be better." he's getting irritated and I have been irritated since he started talking.

"That's what you wanted." I say coldly. "I don't want to do all of this shit! I didn't want this life, I didn't want to do football for my whole childhood. Look at how fucking horrible you are! You think it's okay to just take me away from my family. From my life. That's sick." His expression turns dark and he grips the steering wheel with his left hand as he drinks his coffee with the other. "You only wanted this for yourself." I mutter.

"Your family doesn't care that you left. Aren't they in, what, Aruba?" he says right back with his lips almost turned up at the corners. I almost slap him in the face but I didn't. I'm better than that.

He knows all about my parents and the shit they do. He has gotten so low that he used them to hurt me. I'm used to it. I'm used to be alone and them not caring at all.

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