Dane frowns at me, lowers his hands, and exhales heavily.
“I am way too drunk for this shit.”
“You’re such a typical man. I don’t even know why I thought you would do anything about this… or care. You probably want them to divorce, right? Another excuse to celebrate?” I turn on my heel and storm to my bed before throwing myself on it and hitting the third breakdown of my evening. Just the thought of it and the word divorce has me sobbing into my comforter and breaking my heart as past memories overwhelm me. I’m suddenly a fragile mess who cannot control tears because they have been bottled up for months while this situation grew.
My parent's divorce completely broke me. It’s taken years of internalizing and working through it to find happiness in this house and with Bryan as a stepdad. Years to see him as some father figure, even though there is a feeling of formality between us. Now, it might all crumble to dust, too, and then what? I have two dads who make excuses never to see me. I don’t think I could take that twice.
I start wailing into my bed, unleashing fear and worry. Full on pity party. Hurting and overwhelmed and knowing this had to come to a head at some point, I just didn’t expect it to be over Dane being a shitty person and racing his bike on the streets of Florida.
“Kayla, don’t. I’m sorry, okay… hey.” Dane’s warm hands are on my hips and waist as he tries to shift me, and the bed sinks around me with his weight as he climbs over me. Getting on and pulling me around to maneuver me. He slides up to my side and tugs me against him to try and uncover my face. Spooning me on one side and trying his hardest to get me to uncurl for him.
“Go away.” I fight him on it, covering my face with my hands and going rigid so he can't fully flip me over, hating on him. I am so done and wish he would leave now. He might have comforted me for a second, but he is the one who also made me worse.
Dane gets frustrated with my vice-like immobile posture, so instead, he decides to get on top of me. He cages me with his body, hands, and knees, the bed sinking at points around me as he positions himself. Lowering down, so his face is as close to mine as he can get while smoothing back my hair and trying to prise my fingers loose.
Kayla… I do care. As much as I dislike your mom, I wouldn’t want them to break up and hurt you like that. Don’t cry… come on.”
“Stop telling me to stop crying. I want you to fix it, not make me quiet. I’m allowed to cry if I want to… you’re not the boss of me.” I sound like a petulant three-year-old the way I spit words at him, twisting my body to dodge his touches, and he reacts by chuckling under his breath, which only incenses me. Enraged that he finds this humourous while I am literally pouring out my heart.
I flip over in a hostile manner, almost head-butting him. Enraged and ready to beat him about the skull that the jerk would find my tears over this amusing.
“My crying is funny to you?” I accuse, aware he's now hovering over me face to face, and I can’t do much about it. He’s a lot closer than I thought, and I have a view right down his carved, tanned abdomen with the way his jacket and shirt hang down at the neckline in my line of vision. It does distract me for a split second. I had no idea he had such a sculpted six-pack.
“No…. but sometimes you’re cute at the weirdest moments ….. I’m drunk, and I’m sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, but come on, Kales…..” He’s trying not to smile, but for some insane reason, he can’t seem to help it, and my anger flares up to a boiling point. “You are kinda acting like a toddler.”
He says the absolute wrong thing.
“Asshole.” I slap at him with both hands, pushing at him and closing my fists to soft punch his arms. Dane pulls back to his haunches, defending himself from my blows with raised palms and dodges, smiling at how feeble this is and frowning at me that maybe he expected I would be a lot tougher than this. He takes it like a big guy being beaten by a small child, pushing my temper through the roof.
“I'm sorry… I’m … Kayla, look… I’m sorry.” He bats my hands down, catches my wrists, and attempts to cool me down. “Stop, okay… I get it. My bad …. this is on me… I’m ruining your life.” He croons it at me, hints of sarcasm veiled in his response, and I pause to scowl and shake my head at him.
“Then stop… it’s not hard. Stop with the bullshit. Stop flunking school….. stop doing shit like getting drunk and living recklessly. Stop doing things to trigger my mom…….. to make me scared and worried over you…. just STOP!”
The word rings between us for a silent second, almost like it’s filtering around us, and I swear it echoes. Our eyes are locked on each other, and his expression tightens as he sits down on his ass and relaxes a little while holding my wrists. My tears drying up, and I shake one arm free to wipe away dampness with my sleeve.
“You really think that will fix this?” Dane sinks, letting me go altogether as I calm fully. His arrogance dissipates to a sober expression, blowing out air like he's tired, staring at me intensely. “…. like a magic wand? Just poof, we can make it all better?” He sounds deflated, and for the first time in a long time, I see hints of a boy I used to know. A genuine expression for once.
I don’t know what this mood change is, but a little flicker of light sparks up in me that maybe he is fed up with it all and looking to end it like I am. Perhaps he’s done with his fucked up daddy rebellion. He said he was making money to get out of here, so maybe he wants to stop. Maybe behind that smug persona and attitude of not caring, Dane is tired of this existence, too.
“Only you can fix what’s going on in your head, Dane… but yeah…. if you were less of a complete ass, then it would go some way to fixing this mess of a life you have thrown at me.” I implore him, shuffling forward on my knees to get closer. My attempt at a white flag and to get him talking. “Do you want to keep going on like this? Fighting my mom at every turn… having your dad clean up your messes? Living in this atmosphere? Doing nothing with your life?”
Dane slides back from me and crawls off the bed, fully unzipping his jacket and hauling it off before throwing it over his shoulder. His manner changes, and the glimpses of rawness a second ago seem to fade behind a steely gaze and return to his normal facial expression.
My heart sinks watching him. He’s recoiling from this interaction as he does anytime we two have a conflict. It makes it seem like he intends to walk off, bringing back a spike of rage and disappointment. I can almost taste the rebellion building and fizzing with renewed energy. Dane is always the one to walk off whenever the fight is with me, and I know that’s what he is doing now. He’ll never back down from anyone else, but with me, he never stays.
I’m getting nowhere.
“Why should I? …. for them? For their shitshow marriage? Their cushy life together?... for this? This fake family?” he nods in the direction of their room across the hall, and all hope in me fades and dies. I thought I was getting through to him for a second, but I see that wall rising again and the arrogance returning. I should have kept crying as it seemed to get to him more than anger does.
“For all of us. That includes you.” I try, knowing it’s futile. Losing all the fight because I have no more energy. I was tired before breaking my heart, and now I am exhausted.
Dane gazes down at his feet and snorts a dry, breathy chuckle. Sarcasm is evident in his expression, and he shakes his head at me. A little glimmer of ‘why are you so naïve?’ in his frown. I have seen it so many times that I recognize it, even when it’s subtle. He always acts like I’m a clueless child.
“Little Miss Innocent … like we can fix our shit by me being a good boy.……. Just one easy switch up, and it all goes away…..Why? ….. I don’t want to fix things with or for them. I’m only here because it's convenient for me to be here while finishing school… it was the one promise I made to my mom. I don’t care if I fail school…. Destroy all hope of a relationship with my dad … I don’t give a fuck…. Why should I?”
I watch him, sadness running through me at a hundred miles an hour, filling every tiny gap inside me with hopelessness, and my anxiety returns with fervor. I drop my gaze to my lap, eyes misting up again and my heart shredding a little by little. Hating that I ever had this conversation with him. It didn’t help me. It just made me feel a hundred times worse.
Dane makes a breathy noise, close to a tut, and shakes his head at me like I’m stupid before he turns and walks to my bedroom door. His shoulders are straight and his spine rigid, and I can feel his hostility, even from here. I say nothing but glance at him and drop back to staring at my fingers as I twist them together. Tension is making me stiff, and holding back the fourth wave of tears because I don’t want him to stay and keep making this hurt more.
“But…. to ensure I never see you cry like that again …….. I’ll try,” Dane states so softly it’s almost a whisper that I snap my head up to stare at him and screw up my face that I didn’t hear what I just heard. My breath catches in my throat, and I'm frozen in shock.
He doesn’t look back.
He opens my door and leaves with a hasty step, closing it behind him without a pause as though nothing just happened. That he didn't just tell me he would try to change it for me.
I’m sitting like this, unsure if I just imagined that or what he meant by it. Left staring at a shut door and the soft sound of him walking away as my head spins, I try and swallow what that even was.