In My Head

Paranoid Oppression ~ Logan

I jump out of the shower, towel off quickly, and throw on my clothes. I was in the shower for five minutes, maybe. It's not like I time myself or anything, but I can judge how long a minute is, and when the minutes start to stack up it always makes me feel edgy. I used to enjoy a long shower in the morning, but now I just can't.

Kaden isn't in his room. Maybe he went to find Mom. I can't let myself relax until I know for sure, so I go looking for him. As soon as I leave his room, I see him sitting on the floor near the living room. Why is he on the floor? I jog down the hallway.

Kaden tilts his head back and looks up at me wordlessly.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Mom's yelling at Dad."

I look back at him and cock my head. I don't hear anyone yelling. Kaden nods toward the entryway, and I go open the front door. Mom and Dad are in the driveway, standing next to the basketball hoop. Sweet, he put it up, so we can practice before tryouts start. They both whirl around to look at me.

"What's wrong?" Mom starts coming over. "Is Kaden-"

"Nothing-no, he's fine," I say, rolling my eyes. Then I see Dad standing with his arms crossed, and I remember what Kaden just said. Mom was yelling at Dad. Because he set up the hoop.

Mom comes all the way to the door. She sighs when she sees Kaden standing behind me. "Let's go eat breakfast." She grabs Kaden's arm, but he brushes her off.

"I'm not hungry." He stands next to the door with me.

"You still need to eat," Mom snaps. "Come inside." She spins around and marches toward the kitchen.

Dad uncrosses his arms and calls out. "Hey boys, why don't you come try it out?" He disappears into the garage.

I step into my shoes and nudge Kaden. He stares off toward the kitchen. I jog down the sidewalk to the driveway, and Kaden follows me. Dad has a basketball. He passes to me, and I meet the ball in a jump stop. I drop step, dribble and pivot, and shoot a lay-up. The ball goes fwhp through the net.

"Looking good, Logan!" Dad calls, but I don't feel good. My head is pounding. Suddenly, all I can think about is waking up on the pavement last night. The last thing I want to do right now is play basketball.

I grab the ball and pivot around to pass to Kaden. He stands with his hands in his pockets, but I softly lob the ball to him, and he whips his hands out to catch it. He glances down at the ball in his hands and then gazes up at the hoop. "You put the net on the wrong side of the driveway, Dad," he says, gesturing behind the hoop, where the lawn slopes down toward the neighbor's house. "Logan's gonna work up a sweat chasing after all his air balls that roll down the hill."

Dad chuckles softly. "Maybe that's the point. A little shooting pressure never hurt anybody."

Before I can come up with some witty response, I spot Mom coming into the garage from the laundry room. She glares and says, "Come on, Kaden. Inside."

Kaden rolls his eyes, but instead of letting us stick up for him, he hangs his head and walks by me, pressing the ball into my hands. He stalks over to the garage and goes into the house with Mom, who slams the door shut hard behind them.

"Jeez," I say under my breath. "What's up with her?"

Dad pats me on the back. "I think you know."

"Basketball?" I ask.

Dad hangs his head. "She doesn't want you two to play."

"Why not?"

Dadturns around to go back into the house through the front door. "I think youknow that too," he says over his shoulder.