Family Ties - Debi V. Smith Page 0,24

again,” I say, my tone laced with bitterness. Bitter that I had to deal with Becky. Bitter that my parents won’t let me date Jason. Bitter that I have no way of stopping my father from taking what he wants from me.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

My eyes bore into his. Anger I keep bottled about my parents and my sister threatens to break, sending shards into everyone nearby.

“I’m—I’m—“ he stammers. “I’m going inside.”

I follow him in and take my seat behind him.

He turns around and gives me a small smile. “Did you talk to your parents?”

“They said no.”

“Are you okay?”

“No,” I answer, averting my eyes. The memory of Father stripping off my clothes and strapping my wrists together with his belt plays in my head like an unwanted channel change from sitting on the remote control.

“She was like this all the way to school this morning,” Arissa interjects.

He looks back at me, but I keep my head down and busy myself with preparing for class. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“What’s to talk about?”

“Something is obviously bugging you. If it’s Becky, I’ll talk to her again and make sure she leaves you alone.”

“Drop it!” I yell, slamming my pen down.

Everyone in the room startles and stares. I fold my arms and drop my head on them, crying. The more Arissa and Jason try to console me, the harder I sob.

Arissa walks with me to the office while Jason stays behind to tell Mr. Martin where we went when he returns. She gives me a hug before leaving me. “Whatever it is, Sara, we only want to help make it better.”

I refuse to talk to anyone in the office. No telling what my parents will do to me if I say anything, even if it has nothing to do with them.

I open the front door to Mother’s screams from the kitchen, paralyzing me. They’re never home when I get home from school.

“What the fuck are we going to do? See what you’ve done? All because you can’t control your temper or keep it in your fucking pants!”

“We aren’t going to do anything because they don’t know a fucking thing!” Father shouts.

“We never should’ve allowed her to be friends with that bitch across the street.”

“Arissa doesn’t know anything. Neither do her parents!”

“I can’t believe you fucking did this to me! You never fucking think, Simon!” she shrieks.

“Shut up, you fat whore!”

“Make me, you limp prick!”

Glass breaks and bodies hit the wall. The angry shouting turns into moans. I sneak into my room and sit at my desk with my homework.

My door flies open while I concentrate on Biology homework. I jolt and twist around in my seat to my parents standing in the doorway.

“What did you tell them?” Mother asks.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to us,” Father says.

“I’m not.”

“What did you say to them?” he repeats the first question.

“I didn’t tell them anything. They kept asking me what was wrong, but I didn’t say a word.”

“Why were you in the office?” she asks.

“I was crying and couldn’t stop before English, so Arissa walked to the office.”

“What were you thinking?” she screams. “You have ruined me, goddammit!”

Always asking what I was thinking and making it about her because I swear, I’m not a human being to them. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You allowed Arissa to take you to the office. They called us asking questions,” she says in rabid hysterics. “It’s bad enough we have to put up with the Jerichos.” The heel of her hand presses her temple and her eyes close.

“You’re grounded for the rest of the week,” Father says, leaving with Mother behind him.

I wait a few minutes and then pound the side of my fist on my desk at the unfairness of it all. All I did was go to the office before class until I got myself together and I get grounded for it. Life was simpler without friends, but I wouldn’t trade the two of them for that life again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The next day, the doorbell announces a visitor in the middle of doing the dinner dishes. No one comes to the house except for Arissa and she would call first.

“You what?” my father shouts.

I turn off the water and strain to listen.

“Please, sir. I would like to take your daughter out on a date,” Jason states.

My heart leaps into my throat and lodges there, threatening to cut off my air supply. I force a deep breath to clear the airway. No, J. What are you doing? It won’t work!

“Didn’t

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