Losing Hope

was talking shit and I was just trying to piss him off. I don’t even know the girl he was talking about. I swear—”
    She’s walking away from him and he’s following after her, pleading with her to listen to him. I decide now is a good time to head home. I caught a ride here with Daniel, but it looks like he’ll be preoccupied for a while. I’m only four miles from my house so I text him and tell him I’m headed home, then start in that direction.
    This entire night has reminded me of all the things I don’t want to be around. Drama. Testosterone. Grayson. Everything about high school in general, really. I’m supposed to fill out my transfer paperwork on Monday, but I honestly don’t know that I really want to go back. I know there are ways I can test out. There’s just no way in hell my mother would allow that to happen.

Chapter Six-and-a-half
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    Les,
    Okay, so here goes.
    Last week, our dear stepmother Pamela walked in on me and a girl. She wasn’t just any girl. Her name was Makenna and I’d been out with her a few times. She was cool but it was nothing serious and that’s all I’m going to say about that. But anyway, Pamela got home early and Makenna and I were sort of in a compromising position on the living room sofa. You remember the sofa that Pamela kept the plastic on for three years because she was too scared anyone would get stains on it?
    Yeah. It wasn’t pretty.
    Especially since Makenna and I had made our way into the living room after leaving a trail of clothing from the pool, down the hallway, and to the couch. So, not only were we both completely naked, but I had to walk down the hall and back outside to find my shorts and Makenna’s clothes. Pamela was screaming at me the entire way outside and the entire way back into the house and the entire way to Makenna’s car.
    It embarrassed the hell out of Makenna and she kind of called things off with me after that. But that’s fine, because I have this cool tattoo now that says Hopeless (remember the nickname I gave you and Hope?) and it reminds me not to get too close to anyone, so I hadn’t allowed myself to develop any real feelings for her yet. It was really just about the sex.
    I can’t believe I just said that to my own sister. Sorry.
    Anyway, as you can guess, Dad was furious when he got home. He has one rule and one rule only in his house.
    Don’t piss off Pamela.
    I broke the rule. I broke it hard.
    He actually tried to ground me, and I might have laughed a tiny bit when he said it. I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, because you know that, as much as he disappointed me throughout the years, I still wouldn’t do something to outright disrespect him. But the fact that he tried to ground me four days after I turned eighteen just really struck a funny chord and dammit . . . I laughed.
    He didn’t find it amusing at all and he was pissed. He started yelling at me, calling me disrespectful and ungrateful, and it pissed me off because I mean shit, Les. I’m eighteen! I’m a guy! Guys do shit like have sex with girls in their parents’ houses when they’re eighteen. But Christ if he didn’t act like I’d murdered someone! So, yeah. He pissed me off and I might have lost my temper.
    But that’s not the bad part. The bad part happened after I yelled at him in return and he bowed up to me. He actually had the balls to bow up to me. Not that he’s bigger than me, but still. I’m his son and he bowed up to me like he wanted to fight me.
    So what did I do?
    I hit him.
    I didn’t hit him very hard, but it was hard enough that it hurt him in the most sensitive spot possible. His pride.
    He didn’t hit me back. He didn’t even yell at me. He just pulled his hand up to his jaw and he looked at me like he was disappointed, then he turned around and walked away. I left an hour later and drove back home. We haven’t spoken since.
    I know I should probably call him and apologize, but didn’t he start it by bowing up to me? Just a little bit? What kind of dad does that to his own son?
    But then again, what kind of son hits his own dad?
    God, Les. I feel like shit. I never should have done it. I know I need to call him, but . . . I don’t know. Shit.
    To my knowledge, he never even told Mom what happened. because she hasn’t mentioned it at all. She was surprised to see me back when I walked through the front door a few days ago. Happy, but surprised. She didn’t ask what prompted my return, so I didn’t