by Claire Adams
Hearing this from my dad is annoying. Hearing it from Ian’s dad is somewhat frightening. Hearing it from one of his friends, though, I don’t know that I can really keep ignoring what everyone except Ian and I are seeing.
“Hey,” Rob says, “You all right? I’m not trying to be a dick here. I’m just tellin’ you how it is.”
“Yeah,” I answer quietly and look away from Rob.
This isn’t right.
Ian and I have known each other for a few months, but as far as any relationship goes, it hasn’t even been a day. I can’t be the wrench in the gears of his life.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rob says. “You’re a pretty girl. I’m sure you’ll find someone else in no time.”
All right, now he’s just being a dick to be a dick.
I turn away from Rob in time to see Ian skating in this direction.
Rob’s on his board and skating away by the time Ian gets close. Ian says, “Hey,” to his friend, but Rob doesn’t answer.
I guess he’s leaving it up to me now.
“I’m feeling a lot better,” Ian says. “I think I just needed to let loose and just have a good run where I’m not worried about anything but pulling shit on my—”
“Hey, I’m sorry, but I really should be getting going,” I interrupt.
“What?” he asks. “Why? I thought we were hanging out.”
“It’s Abs,” I lie. “She’s having a thing with her brother and she needs an ear right now. I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, sure,” Ian says. “I hope everything’s all right.”
“Yeah, I’m sure everything’s going to be fine,” I tell him and only continue to pile on the lies from there. “This sort of thing happens between them from time to time. They’re super close and everything, but you know if you’re around anyone enough, you’re going to find a reason to argue and eventually, you’re going to need a little bit of… time. Anyway,” I continue, feeling a little off-center in my existence at the moment, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right,” Ian says. “I’ll give you a call after I go home. I think I’m going to hang around here for a little bit and just skate, you know, get back into a positive headspace or whatever.”
“Okay,” I smile. “Bye.”
I walk away.
He doesn’t know anything’s wrong yet, but this is for the best.
Last night and every moment since, right up until Rob came over here and shattered the illusion, I’d done an excellent job of discounting my dad and his dad’s concerns as being the result of a sad sack, lonely guy being overprotective (my dad) and a real hemorrhoid of a person (that would be Ian’s dad) being a real hemorrhoid of a person, but Rob’s got no reason to come over here out of the blue, much less as he happened to have told me a slightly different version of the same story I’ve been hearing from the sad sack and the hemorrhoid.
I guess from here I just file my time with Ian into the fantasy section of my brain and go on with my life.
I just wish I could get this stupid sun out of my eyes, it’s really making them water.
For a while, I just walk around, but eventually I head home.
This is just going to be one of those vicious days that just never seems to end until it ends.
I’m walking in the door when my phone starts to ring.
I pull it out of my pocket and look at the caller.
It’s Ian.
As much as I wanted to spare him at the park, I can’t lead him on, either.
I answer the phone with the words, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” and I hang up.
It’s not the gentlest way to do it, but I’d rather have him think I’m just some crazy chick who doesn’t know who she wants than have him giving up the more concrete opportunities of his life.
I was really looking forward to being with him, though.
Chapter Twelve
Something about Women Being Crazy and Men Being Idiots
Ian
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” she says, and that’s it. She hangs up.
That’s supposed to be the end of the conversation, but I’m getting sick of the back and forth. We’ve just gotten to the point where we’re actually together and she’s scared, I know that’s all this is.
Why would she suddenly get so scared, though?
Things were great this morning and, despite my lackluster performance dropping in—something she should be more than used to by now, by the way—she was still in a positive mood before I left to skate around the park.
Maybe her friend said something.
I’m not entirely sure what it is, and I certainly haven’t spent enough time with Mia’s friend Abby to really get a solid read on her, but the chick gives me an uneasy feeling. That’s why I didn’t follow through making out with her that night at the party.
I guess I really shouldn’t be too shocked Abby is trying to get Mia away from me so she can take another run herself, but I really hoped she was a better friend to Mia than that.
Maybe it wasn’t Abby, though.
Things seemed to change at the park.
Maybe Mia was telling the truth and Abby had just called her, but as I look back, I don’t remember seeing Mia on her cellphone. I wasn’t really watching her the whole time, either, but what I do remember her doing was talking to Rob.
Rob and I have a strange history.
We’re about as different as two people can be when it comes to most things, but if it’s anything to do with skating, he and I are simpatico. He and I have had more arguments than me and anyone other than possibly my dad, but he is a good guy. I can’t imagine he’d try to blow up my relationship.
I think about it a little more, though, and some things start falling into place.
Mia seemed too somber for someone just going to help her friend blow off steam about a sibling. Siblings argue all the time. That’s part of being a sibling.
As an only child, I’m only working off what I’ve seen, but it doesn’t really compute as the sort of thing that would put that solemn look on Mia’s face.
Then there was the way Rob just skated off as I came up, even after I said, “Hey,” to him.
That’s got to be it: Rob said something.
I change course from skating toward Mia’s place to skating toward Rob’s.
Rob left the skate park after he talked to Mia, but that doesn’t mean he’s home. If he’s not, though, I guess I’ll just have to track the bastard down.
Fortunately for me, though, when I get to Rob’s door a long ride into his shitty neighborhood later, I don’t have to knock my knuckles bloody waiting for him to answer the door.
“Jesus!” he says, flinging open the door. “You don’t have to pound the fucking thing down. Shit!”
“What’d you say to Mia?” I ask.
In the back of my mind, I think I had it pretty well mapped out that I was going to start off willing to listen and only go hostile if he gave me a reason to, but yeah. That’s out the window.
“Calm down, bro,” he says. “Want a beer?”
“What’d you say to her?” I ask. “We just started getting past the fucking hard-to-get thing, and when I just called her a little while ago, the only thing she had to say to me was that it was over. You talked to her at the skate park. What the fuck did you say?”
“Relax, man,” he says. “I started off by telling her you’d told me good things. I was very copasthetic.”
“Copacetic,” I correct, “not that that’s even the right fucking word. What else did you tell her?”
“I told her some of what you told me last night, man,” he says. “I thought you’d told her he was an inch from cutting you off. I wasn’t rude or anything, I just wanted to make sure she was willing to actually stick with you through shit if and when pops took back his check book.”
“That wasn’t your call to make,” I tell him. “You should have talked to
me about it if you were that worried.”
“I’ve tried, but to be fair, you have been a bit of a self-important dickfuck recently,” Rob says.
“I’m really not in the mood, Rob,” I tell him. “I want you to get on the phone and take back whatever the fuck it is you said to Mia to get her so freaked out. It wasn’t your fucking business talking to her about that shit anyway.”
“Dude, I don’t know if you know this,” Rob says, “but you’ve got your head up your ass, and I don’t just mean about your girly there. Saw you at the park still adding to the scars and bruises—I admire the get up and fucking go, but let’s be real, man. You don’t have your shit together and that bitch was just going to screw your fucking head until—”
I’ve never punched someone in the face before now, and I have to tell you, it hurts a lot more than the movies would have you think.
My head’s suddenly in a different position and it’s a couple of seconds before it really dawns on me that Rob just hit me back. With that realization comes the pain of the impact and the fucking urge for greater revenge, so I smash him across the face again with a left and then with a right.
I manage to get him off balance, and I take the opportunity to put every fucking drop of my righteous indignation into a hard right hand into his stupid, talk-too-much mouth.
He falls backward, but just as quickly is back on his feet, telling me to get the fuck off his porch.
“You know what, man?” I ask, grabbing him by the shirt. “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?”
“I was trying to do you a fucking favor,” Rob says. “She was having you humiliate yourself up there and we both know you’re never going to be ready for that stupid fucking competition—not with her at the wheel anyway.”
“You’re a real piece of shit,” I repeat.
“Get the fuck off my porch,” he repeats and, there being no other business to attend at the moment, I put my middle finger about an inch from his swollen, stupid fucking face and I walk away, picking up my board as I come down the steps. “Yeah,” Rob says behind me, “you’re a real badass, starting a fight with someone who’s just trying to look after you, you fucking prick!”
I just keep walking. If I don’t, there’s a real possibility that next time it’s not going to be my fist smashing into his face, it’s going to be the trucks of my fucking skateboard, and I can really see the consequences of that getting a little out of hand.
By the time I get back home, I’m more pissed than ever and the pain of Rob’s repeated blows to my beautiful, beautiful face is starting to sink in.
I just hope dad’s not home.
That hope is quickly dashed as I open the front door and walk into the living room to find him sitting on the couch, reading a book.
“What the hell happened to you?” dad asks, putting down his book and getting to his feet.
“I got in a bit of a fight,” I tell him. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?!” dad responds, already screaming. “That is it, Ian. I have had enough. I have tried to help you, I’ve tried to support you, I’ve given you every opportunity and still, after I’ve talked to you endlessly about this nowhere lifestyle of yours, you just keep going back. Well, enough is enough.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I don’t think you’re ever going to take me seriously until I follow through, and I think the time for me to do that is right now, this moment,” he says. “Ian, I want you to find somewhere else to live.”
“Oh, fuck off, dad,” I tell him. “Mia broke up with me. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“She did this to you?” he asks.
“No,” I sigh. “She didn’t do this to me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he says, starting to pace in front of me. “This is not how you were raised, and I’m not going to support you so long as you’re doing what you’re doing. It’s great the girl finally came to her senses, but until you’ve not only given up the girl, but the board and that whole lifestyle, I think it’s best that you see what it’s like out there on your own for a little while.”
“Fine,” I tell him. “I don’t need your fucking money. I’m out of here.”
Dad flipped off? Check.
Door slammed hard behind me? Check.
Take anything with me but the skateboard in my hand, the clothes on my back and the few random items in those clothes? Nope.
Oh well. I’m not going back in there now.
I’ll give him a call tomorrow or something and I’ll get my shit. Yeah, I’ll move out, but if he thinks I’m going to stop coming by to check on mom, he’s more out of touch with reality than I thought.
The shitty thing is that I have no idea where I’m going.
Most of my friends are just random people I know from the park. The only ones I really spend all that much time with are Rob and Nick, but Nick lives in a studio with barely enough room for him and Rob—I guess I probably don’t need much of an explanation there.
I pull the phone out of my pocket and start going through numbers, but nobody’s jumping out at me as a particularly realistic option. In my mind, there are at least a few of my friends and acquaintances who live either by themselves or with a roommate who would be okay with me crashing for a bit, but every possibility becomes impossible as soon as I read the name.
It’s really just Rob, unless I want to curl up with Nick on his futon.
The throbbing in my right cheekbone, my bottom lip and the area around my left eye are still doing a pretty good job convincing me not to head straight back to Robs right now, though.
I’m homeless. I no longer have a home.
It’s an odd situation, but it’s only fair for Rob to let me stay at his place. When it really comes down to it, my getting kicked out and cut off so close to the competition are direct results of Rob’s actions.
Maybe I’ll be able to convince Rob to let me stay with him, maybe not. Regardless, I’m going to need a job, and I’m going to need one fast.
Even if Rob does choose to have a short memory about our spat, he’s not going to let me live there very long if I’m not chipping in and, as my main source of income has just been removed, that means I’m going to have to get something together, and quick.
This really couldn’t have happened at a worse time.
I turn the corner onto Rob’s street, and as I come closer to his house, I can see him sitting on his front porch, smoking a cigarette.
Hopefully we can do this without coming to blows again, but I guess we’ll just have to see.
Things don’t start off so well, as Rob’s on his feet as soon as he sees me coming.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he shouts. “Stay away!”
“Yeah, so our little tiff got me cut off and kicked out,” I tell him, hoping the nonchalant approach will help ease tensions. “I’m staying with you.”
“Sounds shitty,” he says. “Not my problem.”
“Yeah, it kind of is,” I tell him, “as it’s pretty much your fault from start to finish.”
“You can’t blame me for your dad’s bullshit. He’s had that stick up his ass as long as I’ve known you,” Rob says.
“Longer,” I respond, “but come on, man. I’ve got nowhere else to go. Do you really think I’d be here asking to bunk with you after kicking your ass if I had other options?”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “I think you got part of your little story backwards, there, bro,” he says. “I do believe it was me who kicked your ass.”
“Look at your fucking face, dude,” I tell him.
“Look at yours,” he says.
“Okay, neither one of us is going to end up on a magazine cover for about a week, so what?” I ask. “We fought. It doesn’t even matter who won. It’s over.”
“You’ve got some balls, I’ll give you that,” he says.
“I do,” I tell him. “Two, last time I counted, but a couple more may have
sprouted up on the walk over here.”
“You’re pretty fucking weird, man,” he says.
“That’ll just make things more entertaining around the house,” I tell him. “Come on, man. I really have nowhere else to go and it was your artwork on my face that put my dad over the edge.”
“I can’t afford to take on a freeloader,” Rob says. “I’m sorry about what happened with your dad and everything, but I got bills and shit, bro. Unless you’ve got some way to chip in your fair share, I can’t do it.”
“I get that,” I tell him. “Just give me a week or two to find a job, and I promise I’ll pay my portion of whatever.”
“I don’t know, man,” he says. “I’m pretty pissed at you right now.”
“I’m pretty pissed at you, too,” I tell him. “You’re kind of an asshole.”
“Oh yeah,” he says. “Talk sweet to me.”
“Do you really think I’d be asking if I had anywhere else to go?” I ask.
His bottom lip comes up a bit and he’s looking up and off into the distance.
“Rob?” I ask.
“Yeah?” he returns, holding his general position.
“You all right, man? Your eyes are kind of glazing over,” I tell him.
“You’re going to have to sleep on the couch,” he says.
“Done,” I answer.
“Under no circumstances are you allowed to beat off on my couch,” he says.
“That’s not a problem.”
“If you have a chick over, you can take her to my room, but only if I’m not in there, you’re quiet, and you make sure my shit stays clean,” he says.
“Have you noticed most of your rules so far have been regarding how I’m expected to act with my penis?” I ask. “I wonder if that means something.”
“Shut the fuck up, dude,” he says. “I’m only considering taking you in ‘cause we’ve got history and shit. If I wasn’t such a nice guy, you wouldn’t even be standing there right now.”
