Miss Perfect and The Bad Boy

three - unhappy homes

"Turn right here."

I twisted the steering wheel of the Audi S5 my parents got me as a 17th birthday gift. Alex was giving me directions to his house from the passenger seat. As we drove further, the houses started getting worse. The paint was peeling off all of them and the houses looked like they were about to fall apart.

"It's the house on left," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. "I'll be back in 5 minutes."

I did a double take. "Wait, what? I am not staying out here alone."

"Just lock the car. No one will bother you."

"No, I'm coming in with you," I protested.

He sighed, clearly flustered. "Nikki, my dad-"

"He won't do anything in front of me."

He raised his eyebrows. "You obviously don't know my dad."

"What if someone comes with a gun and shoots me?" I argued.

Alex narrowed his eyes. "No one is going to shoot you."

I started growing impatient with his stubbornness, and I'm sure he was impatient with mine too, but I wasn't giving up first. "You don't know that. I don't know if your up to date on current events but gun control is pretty much non-existent in this country-"

He put a hand on his forehead and cut me off, exasperated. "Okay, you can come. But be quiet. He's probably asleep."

I ran out of the car and up the driveway. Alex slowly opened the front door and we walked in. Luckily, his dad was passed out on the couch, beer and alcohol bottles all around him. The house smelled like cigarettes. It was messy with plain white paint and bare walls. Trash was all around the living room and there were no pictures. The only furniture was the brown sofa and a small TV that was still on, tuning into the local news, reporting a new shopping plaza opening in my neighborhood.

I always knew Alex wasn't rich like most of the kids in Greenwood. In fact, this was the worst part of town. The rest of the town was million-dollar houses, but seeing his house now made me feel sad for some reason.

Alex walked in front of me and I followed timidly. He led me into one of two bedrooms. It was pretty small. There was a twin-sized bed in the center and a small chest with drawers in the corner.

"I would say it usually doesn't look this bad but that would be a lie," Alex mumbled as he walked to the closet.

I sat down on his bed and stayed silent until he was done getting his clothes. Looking around, I noticed a picture of him as a child with a beautiful woman. She had dark brown hair and a bright smile. It was his mom. She had left Alex and his dad when we were in middle school.

After a few moments, I said, "Have you heard from your mom ever since she left?"

Alex stiffened up, not turning around. "She sent a letter a few months ago. Apparently she went to my grandma's house down in Texas and she's been there ever since. She's clean now and she has a new husband and a 2-year-old daughter. She's happy now I guess."

My mood lifted. I knew how much Alex had suffered dealing with his mom's addictions on top of his dad. I was glad she was doing better now. "Oh, that's great! What did you say back?"

"I threw her letter away," he said.

My eyebrows shot up. "What? Why?"

"She left me with that monster. Alone. For years, I had to deal with his drug deals, drinking problems, and abuse. I was fourteen. If she thinks I'm going to forgive her if she sends a letter, she's wrong." His tone was tight and slightly angry. He turned around from the closet and zipped up his bag quickly. "We should go before my dad wakes up."

He grabbed my hand, his rough and tight around mine, and quietly led me outside. Luckily, his dad was still asleep on the couch.

Back in the car, I turned to him and asked, "Doesn't your dad care that you're not home for days?"

He shrugged. "He's happier with me out of his life. He wishes he succeeded at killing me every day."

I gasped. "He tried killing you?"

Alex opened his mouth and closed it. I couldn't tell if he was mad at himself that he let that slip out or if he didn't know how to explain it. Finally, he spoke. "A few years ago, he got out a baseball bat and hit me with it until I was unconscious. I had a concussion, 5 broken ribs, broke my arm, and got 35 stitches. He would've killed me if the neighbors hadn't knocked on the door asking what all the yelling was about."

I sat there, unable to move in shock. What the fuck? What kind of monster does that to a child? After a moment, I quietly said, "How can you live like this?"

He looked out the window. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Apply for college to get away from here, go to a relative. I don't know, just get away."

"The only living relative I have is my mom and no way I'm going to her. Even if I wanted to, she doesn't
want shit to do with me. And college? Seriously?" He sounded incredulous.

I looked at him with confusion. "What?"

"You think someone like me can go to college? I'd be lucky to get into a community college."

"Come on, don't say that."

"It's the truth. I'm not rich and smart like you and the rest of these Greenwood kids. I can't just go to any college I want."

"You are smart," I fired back, and it was true. "You were the one who explained every math problem and helped me with all my history homework in middle school. You just don't try."

He let out a puff of breath. "There's no point."

"So what are you doing after high school?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

"We're graduating in 7 months! What do you mean?"

He rolled his eyes. "Thank you Captain Obvious. But, maybe I'll get a minimum wage job. Maybe I'll win the lottery and go far away from here. I don't know yet, we'll see."

"If you start trying right now, you'll probably get into a community college here and then you can transfer. We'll have to look at your credits to figure some things out but-"

Alex cut me off. "Nikki, I appreciate it, but thinking about the future freaks me out. I would rather live right here, right now without worrying about what's going to happen tomorrow."

I sighed. I wish he would care more about his future, his near future. But talking to him was like talking to a brick wall. Stubborn as ever. A part of me thought he just gave up because he didn't know what to do. I turned the car on and mumbled, "Whatever you say."