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Show All the Variables & Other Love Stories 13 "I never asked Mom and Dad to worry about me," I said. Brandon rolled his eyes. "You think Mom and Dad aren't worried about you? Think they can just stop like that? Get out of here before I hit you." I walked back to my car. My hands shook, my face burned with shame. I cried, I admit it. I really hated that son-of-a-bitch. Later I wanted to tell Michaela, but I couldn't be sure my voice wouldn't tremble so I kept it to myself. It ate at me. I didn't know how much of it was Brandon's spite and how much was the unflinching truth. I was so used to being selfish I didn't notice how it might affect my parents. It wasn't just a character quirk they found annoying. I wanted to talk to Michaela about it but I was shaken the whole day. We passed the afternoon in the family room of my parents' basement watching TV. I never watched TV alone-I thought it was a disease, and they say the first sign of alcoholism is drinking alone. Michaela wore a white summer dress with blue polka dots that showed off her pale, shapely legs. We could hear my parents arguing upstairs, and I couldn't tell if it was me or Brandon they fought about. "He's a loser ... Still daydreaming ... No sense ... responsibility ... taking care of him his whole life ... I can't talk to him; I've tried ... I don't know, Carol!" Michaela asked if I was okay. I said I was, it didn't matter, as soon as school was out I was getting the hell out of here. Mom caught me on the stairs after Michaela went home. "Your father-I know he wouldn't say this to you-but he just wants you boys to be happy. He's worried." I nodded and slunk past her to my room. I would never understand nor care to understand that man. I hated the way my father domineered my mother, but she welcomed it. She was cool enough, but I knew I wouldn't be interested in her if she were a girl I knew. She fit |