Chapter Six
Shawn
Well, lunch was awkward.
I remembered what I had said to Valerie during our time in la-la land together and it wasn’t as though I didn’t actually feel that way now. But I was just so angry, more at the situation than at her, but that still didn’t mean that I wanted to have a heart to heart and talk about my problems. Really, all I wanted to do was get through the rest of the day and go home, to my mother’s house and just enjoy the silence.
At least there no one was hassling me and demanding things from me that I didn’t want to give. Granted, no one was there, but there still wasn’t anyone who would be able to bother me, which I liked.
However, I would not be able to get there ultimately without a fight. I tried my best though, leaving the first chance I got, when it wouldn’t look completely out of place. I shifted out of my chair and made my way out to the picnic tables, which were located outside. It was still fairly chilly, but I was happy to be away from the tension that was building at that table.
Yet, almost as soon as I was settled, waiting for the time to run out on lunch so I make my way to study hall where Valerie couldn’t find me, I heard the door open and a familiar voice behind me.
“Can we talk?” Valerie asked, fairly heated.
“Do we really have to?” I squinted my eyes at her as I looked up against the blustery glare.
“Yes!” She sat down across from me on the bench. She was glowering at me, but I wasn’t sure why she was so upset. I was the one who had an ax to grind, not her. “What is it with you?” She demanded after a pause.
“What do you mean?” I asked heatedly, matching her tone and expression.
“You just ignored me. Why?”
“Because I normally ignore you.” I replied, this time with a little bit more venom to my voice than I had meant to inject, but that also didn’t stop me. “Or have you been too busy having a perfect life to notice…or even care.”
I was surprised that my harsh words didn’t seem to resonate as bitterly as I had thought they would. Instead, she looked as though she felt sorry for me. Her hand immediately came out and clasped against my own. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Shawn, but I don’t know what I did.” She stared at me once again with a strange look on her face. She didn’t seem angry, as I would have guessed she would be, and that bothered me.
In an odd way, I wanted her to feel the same kind of anger that coursed through me on a daily basis, but instead, I was receiving compassion. “Just leave me alone!” I growled. “Don’t you get that I just don’t want to have anything to do with you?”
At this, Valerie’s head craned back and her eyes narrowed; but she was more confused than angry. “Why, Shawn? What did I do that was so bad that you can’t even talk to me about it?”
“What gave you the impression that I even wanted to talk? You seemed to be okay with our relationship, or lack of, going on like this for a long time now. You haven’t sat at my table in months.”
“Because I didn’t feel wanted,” she insisted and I was sure that I was ruffling her feathers a little bit.
“That’s because you weren’t,” I spat, laying it on thick, even though I knew I would feel terrible about it when it was all over.
She gasped and took back her hand. However, she didn’t speak at first. Valerie seemed to stop what she was doing and contemplate what I had just said to her. Once she found the words that she wanted to use, I supposed, she tried again. “I’m sorry. I thought that after the other day, after the past weekend, maybe there was an opportunity to get back what we so obviously lost.” She bit her lip nervously before she added, “This weekend made me realize how much I missed you and it put into perspective exactly how far we had grown apart. It made me realize exactly what we had and what I wanted to get back.” She stopped, sighed and laced her fingers together thoughtfully. “I guess that just isn’t possible, but I wanted to try…” After another pause, she added, “Although, I do want to know what it is that destroyed us, the friendship that we used to have…everything that used to come so naturally to the both of us. The friendship that we both said would never fade.”
She stared at me now with a sense of righteousness.
I thought for a moment, feeling warm under the keen piercing of her eyes. I knew that I did owe her an explanation, if she ever asked. I had always known that she deserved that. In fact, she deserved better, but better was something that I was not able to provide. So, I settled for just the clarification, at least what I was able to provide, how I understood it, knowing full-well that she wasn’t going to like it.
“It’s really not you,” I said carefully, trying my best to calm the anger and the hurt that I was feeling in order to accurately explain everything to her.
“Okay,” she nodded and continued her glower as she pressed for more.
“It’s…my father,” I answered, but didn’t say anymore for the moment. It was fairly strange to me, but having to provide an explanation to her was very complicated and aggravating. I wondered how I could feel something so strongly that it was almost painful, but be completely unable to accurately express to anyone, even the one person, who after all these years, still knew me best.
“I understand you have some unresolved issues with your father,” Valerie answered slowly, after she waited a good amount of time for me to eliminate the obscurity of my position. “But what I don’t understand is what those issues have to do with me.”
I took a long breath and released it easily, before I finally blurted, “It’s how he treats you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “He treats me well…”
“Yes, but you are like daddy’s little girl and you’re not even his little girl.” I couldn’t hide the disdain in my voice now.
“I am very thankful for your father. He is the only father figure I have ever known. But to be fair, my mother is also the only responsible, motherly figure that you have ever had consistently in your life, so I don’t think that either of us should be hurt.”
“It’s not about your mother!” I yelled, but calmed eventually, not wanting the whole school to hear us. “It isn’t about my mother, or even your father. This is about my father and the way he treats you, as opposed to the way that he treats me. I’m his actual son, after all, but I don’t get anything but a hard time from the man, while all you get is praise.” As I spoke, I slammed my hand down on the table but quickly realized how loud I was becoming, once again. I made a conscious effort to stop, since I had made my point.
At this Valerie stood up and yelled right back at me, “I’m sorry you feel that way and to be perfectly honest, I don’t disagree, but I still don’t understand why this is my fault? I didn’t ask for this. I’m thankful for the way your father has taken me in as his own and I appreciate it, but I certainly never wanted him to ruin his relationship with you over it!”
“Valerie,” I spoke sternly, before I took in a long, calming breath. Releasing it, I said to her, “I’m sorry. You’re right. It has nothing to do with you, but after he seemed to treat me so disproportionately for so many years, I couldn’t help but become jealous of you.” I had regretted the words the second I spoke them and I knew that she was not going to let me live them down; not after everything else I had said.
Now, instead of looking angry, the main emotion that she had swirling around inside of her body was definitely hurt. She stood there, straight as a statue for a long while before she answered, “Jealousy? Is that really what this is all about? You’re jealous of me…because of the way your father chooses to treat me?”
“Valerie…” I said as I stood up and tried to reach out for her, but she casually pulled her hand back from me.
“No.” She stepped away. “I understand now. As much as I hate to say it, you make perfect sense. It all makes perfect sense. You can’t hurt your father, so you are trying to hurt me.” She narrowed her eyes and spoke with a teeming sense of disgust. “You destroyed our friendship, on purpose, because you were jealous over something I had no control over?”
“Valerie…I’m sorry…” I answered, moving toward her again, only to be rebuffed once more.
“No,” she hissed as she recoiled, “you’re not. If you were, you would have nothing to apologize for. Our friendship was obviously a matter of convenience to you.” She shook her head. “And therefore, it never meant anything to you at all.” When she said this, I watched as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. This bothered me greatly, but as she turned and ran away from me, just as the bell rang, I realized there was nothing I could do.
I had defiantly burnt that bridge with her and although I felt terrible for doing so, I had no other choice but to let her go.
When I walked in my mother’s house later on that day, even though I didn’t feel much better, I immediately breathed a sigh of relief.
At the very least, especially with the day that I had with my stepsister, it was good to know that I was alone; truly and honestly alone. That was a fairly new concept for me and I liked every solitary second of it.
Even though I never had a problem living in my father’s house, except the recent and fairly obvious problem I had with my father, there was always someone there. There never was any true privacy, because I never knew when someone was going to come in or out. And that caused an underlying sense of anxiety, especially when one person in particular always seemed to be trying to catch me doing something wrong.
At my mother’s house, there wasn’t anyone there, but more importantly there wasn’t anyone trying to catch me doing anything wrong. If my mother was there, she was usually looking for her first excuse to leave.
I knew that probably should bother me, but it didn’t. I just grabbed a soda and made my way into the living room, before plopping myself on the couch.
However, I wasn’t settled more than five minutes before there was a knock on the door.