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Cameron's POV

The floorboard creaks under my foot and I freeze, waiting a moment to see if I hear any movement coming from the living room. It's silent and I sigh in relief, continuing my trek to the staircase.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, BOY?"

I freeze, spinning around to see my father standing in the kitchen doorway. He glares at me and I gulp, straightening my shoulders.

"I was just going to bed" I reply.

"Just going to bed?" He glares at me, stepping in my direction. "That's all you have to say after slapping me in the face and then not coming home for two days?"

Oh yeah. I forgot that he has no idea I did come home, I just didn't see him while sneaking through the window.

My dad must be a bigger idiot then I thought he was if he honestly thinks that I haven't been home in the last couple of days.

"You deserved it" I shrug, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

"How dare you-" he starts but I cut him off.

"I'm tired" I sigh, "I'm going to go to bed. I have a lot to do tomorrow."

His eyes narrow into slits, as he takes a heavy step in my direction. "Not so fast, boy. We have things to talk about?"

"Like?" I sigh.

He glares at me. "Like the fact that your school therapist or whatever called this afternoon, informing me that due to some alarming things she heard during your session, social services may be coming to the house."

I stare at him for a moment. "Pardon?"

"You heard me!" He snaps, his face getting uglier and uglier by the minute.

I sigh. "What's the big deal? You were bound to know I would tell someone eventually."

"For what? I've never abused you physically. What the hell do they need to come here for?"

I sigh. "There are different kinds of abuse. I would say that blaming your son for his mom's death for a constant twelve years definitely counts."

"You-" he takes a step towards me.

I hold my hand up, stopping him. "I really don't have time for a yelling-lecture. Just know, that when they come I will most definitely be cooperating fully."

"How dare you talk to me like that" He hisses, "we may not have the best relationship, but that's no excuse."

"We may not have the best relationship?" I repeat in disbelief, balling my fists at my sides. "The fuck is that sentence?"

"You-" he starts.

"We have no relationship" I cut him off. "Never have, and never will. That ended the moment mom died."

"Don't-"

"Yeah yeah" I wave him off, "don't talk about her."

"She hated you" he snarls at me. "I hope you realize that, boy. I'm only fulfilling her lifelong wish."

"Okay" I nod. "Because the definition of hating someone is giving them ten presents every birthday and telling them you love them everyday" I reply sarcastically.

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