Chapter Two
Shawn
God this is going to be terrible, I thought as I packed the last box into my car, which I bought with my own money after working for the past two summers. It wasn’t a great car — in fact, it was just about on its last leg — but I didn’t care. Lesser of the two evils, though…
It was mine and so far, it had succeeded in getting me anywhere I needed to go.
My stepmother helped me pack while my father sat in his office, watching the two us, upset that I was leaving.
“You know, Shawn…” my stepmother, Diana said as she stepped back from the car and put her hands on her hips, staring at me in a slightly more motherly way then I would have liked at this moment, “you don’t have to do this.”
I shrugged, trying to keep emotions out of it.
Even though she had helped me move, it didn’t mean that she agreed with my decision and in a way, I couldn’t blame her. She had been more of a mother to me than my own flesh and blood ever was, but I needed a change of scenery.
It wasn’t a good environment for me or the family. I had learned to despise my stepsister for being daddy’s little girl, when he wasn’t even her real father, and resented my father for treating a girl who wasn’t even his real daughter better than he treated me.
My life wasn’t always like that though. Once upon a time, not all that long ago, I had one parent who really cared for me. My father was a great man and always treated me well.
However, then he had to go and get married, which changed everything for me. This move, really, was just a very long time coming.
It was almost three years to the day, actually. My father and stepmother always made a big deal out of their anniversary and I had no doubt they were in love. I just wasn’t feeling it. While everyone else’s lives seemed to get better that day, my life took a turn for the worst.
I liked the life my father and I had, but when he got married, I realized that I wasn’t enough. He started to change, which only compounded the estranged nature of what was once a very strong relationship.
Yet, I had nothing against my stepmother, or really even my father marrying Diana. In fact, out of everyone, I was closest to my stepmother then I had ever been to anyone; and out of everyone in the household, I knew that I would miss her probably the most.
I had known her for most of my life, and she was the one constant influence who didn’t do a paradigm shift the moment she and my father said “I do.”
But after much consideration, I realized that this move was just something I had to do.
Still, I watched as she gave me a look of warning before she moved in close to me and placed her hand on my arm. She sighed. “I know that these past three years have been rough on you and I wish I knew how to make it better.”
“It’s not you,” I said before looking down at the ground. “I assure you.”
Even though I didn’t look up at her face, I was sure that her lips were pursed in the silence that came before another deep breath. “Your father means well, Shawn.”
“Then how come you can tell me what to do and try to help, without making me feel like I am the black sheep of the family? He alienates me and I’m sick of it.”
At this, my stepmother turned her head and stared at me with intensity before she asked in an honest, yet revealing way, “You think your mother is going to treat you better?”
Hearing her say this, I felt my shoulders slouch as the truth of her words sunk in. If anyone was qualified to speak the truth about my mother, especially to me, it was Diana. She had been with my father and I through every missed birthday and disappointment since I was five. It was her that was there to fill the gap, even before she married, or even dated my father.
Diana had never let me down. Not even once. I might have not liked what she had to say, but regardless, she was always there for me.
She, at the very least, knew how to treat both her daughter and her stepson equally, without showing obvious favoritism.
“No,” I replied stiffly before looking back up at her and adding, “But there’s no surprise there. With Dad, our relationship has changed and I don’t like it. My mother has always tried to push me aside, so I might feel more at home there.”
Diana chuckled in a strange way. “I don’t think that’s a very good reason. After all, your father has watched you grow up. Your mother doesn’t even know you. She lives in the same town and you’re lucky to receive a text from her.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, well, that’s my decision.”
She nodded and rubbed my arm in something of a supportive gesture. “And that’s your decision, Shawn. You know that you will always have a home here with us, but if you feel like this is something that you have to do, then I support you.”
“Do you think my father ever will?” I asked, even though I didn’t want to let on that I actually cared. Still, I was pretty certain that my stepmother knew better anyway.
She shrugged and answered encouragingly, “I think you just need to give him some time. I know that Valerie and I are going to miss you though, so make sure to come back and visit.”
I smiled at her, but didn’t say anything that I was feeling. I just shrugged and laughed. “You know I’m just going to be across town, right? It’s not like I’m moving to Africa…” Then, I teased, “What are you going to do when Val and I go to college?”
“Cry,” she answered quickly, before a small laugh. “A lot.”
I smiled at her and shook my head. “Well, you’ve got a little bit of time left still, so maybe you’ll get sick of our faces before then.”
“Never,” she answered as tears began to well in her eyes. After another heavy sigh, she clapped her hand on my arm solidly. “Go. Now. Before I bribe you into staying, or something.”
I smiled and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Diana. For everything.” I quickly turned around and got into the car, before she really did say anything that would convince me to stay.
As I left, I spied my stepsister, Valerie, watching from a few houses down, alongside her boyfriend, Zachary.
The two of them were making out, which made me roll my eyes as I passed them. Even still, I waved, but they paid me no mind.
He was an okay guy and everything, but just like everything else in Valerie’s life she could do no wrong when it came to picking a boyfriend. To my father, but even to my stepmother at times, Zachary was wonder boy, while I was always the underdog who never seemed to rise to the occasion.
I had gotten a lot of, “Why can’t you be more like Zachary…” from my father, which really angered me. He got good grades and seemed to excel fluidly at any sport he tried, while still managing to have just enough time for Valerie.
It was exceedingly nauseating.
After all, I wasn’t Zachary and even though there was a part of me that did want to be a little more like Zachary in certain ways, I was never going to be like him. I wished people would just stop implying that was a possibility.
Granted, I hadn’t had a particularly bad life. I knew from some of my friends, things that I heard and the way my own mother treated me when I was little, that things could be worse. But under my father’s unforgiving thumb was just not how I chose to live my life. I didn’t want to have my father looking over my shoulder anymore and pointing out every single one of my mistakes. I wanted to be able to enjoy what I had and take pride in my own accomplishments, as small as they may have seemed to everyone else but me.
I was also sick of Valerie outdoing me at everything.
In a way, I longed for the flippant nature that my birth mother showed. I didn’t necessarily need to have anyone’s approval. I just wanted to do my own thing without having the constant stain of someone’s disapproval following every move I made.
I figured living with my mother, which would basically be like living by myself, I would have the freedom I sought and it would give everyone a chance to cool down.
I was angry, yes, but there was a deep-seated reason for that anger that had very little to do with the actual people involved, but rather the situation.
Therefore, I decided that if I was able to move away, I could lessen the burden of that anger, which would make me able to enjoy the people who I knew, deep down, still truly cared for me.
I wasn’t even off of my father’s street before I heard my cellphone ring. I answered the phone and put it on speaker, but I knew who it was before I even said hello.
“Hi, Dalilah,” I yelled into the phone.
“Did you leave yet?” my girlfriend asked, after a pause, “It sounds like you’re in the car.” Dalilah was a good girl, but had wild hair. She was the one who had encouraged me to go to my mother’s house, but I wouldn’t dare tell anyone that. My family already disliked her as it was.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m on my way.”
“Good!” she answered, sounding relieved. “Do you need help unpacking?”
“No…I should be good,” I replied, now starting to get nervous. My mother knew that I was coming, but after not seeing her in almost a year, I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.
Now that I had officially left, I was beginning to think that I had made an impulsive decision. What if she changes her mind? I thought, feeling slightly panicked. “Hey, listen, can I call you back?”
“Sure…” She sounded a little put off, but I didn’t care. I needed some time to think and I knew that talking to my girlfriend wasn’t really going to help.
She was beautiful and alluring, but had a temper and a touch of a controlling personality that could be a little rough. Still, she was always there for me whenever I needed her, so I couldn’t help but want to stay with her.
“We’re still on for later though, right?” she demanded.
“Yeah, of course!” I hoped that I could actually keep that promise.
The truth was that with my mother, I could never tell what kind of mood she would be in when I got there, or what kinds of plans she would have. Likely, she was going out with her friends and couldn’t care less what her new roommate was doing, but I could never be too sure. Therefore, I knew that only time would tell.