creates friction between Sterling and me too. Dad hopes that his art is just a hobby and that he’ll grow out of it, the same way I grew out of my programming obsession.
He doesn’t know that I continue working on the side. I love to create apps, develop new software, and fidget with all kinds of gadgets. The fact that I’m focused on his business doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten what I want to do in the future. I’m not planning on taking over his company either; I just haven’t told him yet.
“You should quit,” Sterling suggests. His voice chirps through the car. “If you don’t do it now, you’ll end up like him.”
I shake my head. He better not start giving me shit about my life and my future.
What do I expect?
That’s what this family does best, meddling and pointing out one another’s faults or the fact that we’re not reaching our full potential. He’s not Dad, but he sounds a lot like him. Sterling never misses a chance to tell me that I’m fucking up my life by doing what Dad wants.
I’m biding my time, learning the business world while doing what I love on the side. One day I’ll have enough experience to set up my own company.
Once I start the engine his mouth quirks up into a half-smile. “You’ll become Dad.”
Fucker.
I turn on the music and decide to ignore him. In less than five minutes, we arrive at the school.
“There’s nothing wrong with our father,” I say when I park and turn off the engine.
“You refuse to see the real guy behind that suit. He’s cold. A modern Ebenezer Scrooge,” he continues. “The man works during holidays too.”
I leave the car before we begin to argue. Our parents are giving. For years, they took in children who needed shelter. They provided them with love and a roof without questions. How can he refer to our father as a cold-hearted cheapskate?
Slugger is becoming someone I don’t like. An overprivileged playboy who judges everyone around him. I worry about him and his future. When he turns twenty-five, he’s going to be living off his trust fund. Hopefully, Dad set it up so that Sterling can only withdraw a certain amount per year, and it lasts him a lifetime.
“It’s okay, Wes.” Sterling pats my shoulder. “At least one of us respects the man.”
He walks away. Anger churns in my chest. Sometimes I don’t understand him, and the problem isn’t that I don’t try, but that he doesn’t want to face reality. He lives in a world where Sterling is always right, and if we don’t agree with him, then we’re the enemy.
The ceremony doesn’t last long, but it feels eternal. The principal’s speech is beyond irritating. However, it wasn’t as bad as the valedictorian’s address where the kid suggested they all let themselves fall into the abyss. Someone should’ve edited the piece before the poor kid suggested that they’re leaving the best years of their lives behind and what’s to come will never compare.
“That was interesting,” Mom says as we walk out of the auditorium. “I liked your speech better, Wes.”
“I forgot that you were the valedictorian,” Sterling says in a mocking voice.
“Aren’t you tired of being so perfect?” He mumbles under his breath.
I try to please my parents, but I’m far from perfect. When I graduated, I gave the valedictorian speech because Merritt was arrested for possession the night before the ceremony. His daddy couldn’t bail him out of jail in time for graduation. As captain of the debate and speech team, I was the only one prepared to speak on such short notice.
“Aren’t you tired of being a pain in the ass, fucker?” I reply exasperated.
I don’t wait for his comeback, as my eyes are drawn back to Abby who marches toward us. She’s still wearing the red cap and gown and a bright smile. Taking a few steps forward, I hug her tightly and spin her, lifting her off the ground.
“You did it,” I say excitedly.
“We did it,” she responds with a quiet voice. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be going to summer school, or worse—repeating the entire year.”
“Pfft, you just needed a little push.”
Suddenly, she goes rigid in my arms.
“They’re here?” she gasps.
Her eyes widen, and I put her down when she struggles in my arms.
I look around, searching for whoever scared her, but everything seems normal.
“What’s going on, Abby girl?”
All color washes away from her face, and she’s grasping my arms tightly, as