Drumbeats into My Heart

29. Seth's Confrontation

I think about Jordi's words. Do I bottle things up, only to let them explode out later? It never really occurred to me before, but maybe she's right. In some ways, I am like an obedient Borg drone, going through the motions of each day, doing as I'm told. But unlike the drones, I have feelings: Fear. Resentment. Desires. All pent up and tamped down in my quest to conform to expectations. But most of all, to avoid Mom's disappointment in me.

"Seth, you okay?"

I didn't realize I'd zoned out. I return my gaze to Jordi. "Yeah. I'm good." I rise from the chair, wanting to escape this discomfort. "I should probably go."

She captures my hand. "I didn't hurt your feelings, did I? Sometimes I talk too much."

The warmth of her palm penetrates my discomfort. She's such a good person. I push a stray curl away from her forehead. It falls back into place. "You said what needed to be said. I've got a lot to think about. Thank you, Jordi. I really do need to get home, though."

She nods and gives my hand a squeeze. "I can give you a ride. It's dark out."

I arch my eyebrows. "On the trailer of your bike?"

She laughs and slaps my arm. "My dad can take us, and we can throw your bike in the back. You biked here, right?"

"Yeah, but that's okay." The thought of getting home sooner rather than later unnerves me a little. "I've got a helmet and a headlight. I'll be fine. The fresh air will do me good." I linger, not wanting to leave, but knowing I have to.

She kisses my cheek and hugs me. "You can do it, Seth. You can face her."

I'm not so sure, but her words bolster me.

After a prolonged goodbye with Jordi and a farewell handshake with her dad, I'm on my way. I refused the ride back because I need time to think about what I'm going to say to Mom. Whatever it is, though, I know she's not going to like it.

The cool night air feels good against my skin. I consider hanging out somewhere until late so I can sneak back in when my parents are asleep, but no, that wouldn't work. Knowing my mom, she'll stay up waiting.

Just stand up to her. You'll be seventeen in a week. You can do this. Jordi said you could. I pump myself up as I pedal, filling my mind with affirmations. Mom is not a monster. She's a person, just like me.

Well, maybe not just like me. She definitely operates on a different wavelength from me.

When I get to the house, I walk around to the back yard, leaning my bike against the wall and closing the gate. I can hear the shouting from here.

My heart sinks.

My parents are at it again.

The back window is open, so I stay in the shadows to listen.

"All I'm saying is, you gotta give the boy some breathing room." Dad's voice. "He's a man now. Treat him like one."

"So he can wind up a dead-end mechanic who sneaks whiskey in the garage?" Mom's voice rises with a nasty edge. "Yeah, I know about that."

"So what? You know why I drink? Because it's the only way I can put up with your endless nagging every fucking day!"

"Language!"

"See what I mean? It's one thing to badger me all the time, but you don't even see what you're doing to our son."

"I've raised him to be smart and successful."

"Because I'm such a disappointment to you, is that it?" Dad's voice drops. "Does it really bother you so much that I'm a mechanic? I wasn't anything different when you married me."