Last night's episode left me feeling confused and heartbroken.
Two months have passed when Lisa gets the call.
His junior year is almost over, and while switching schools had been tough, KC had done it. Yeah, he misses Connor and Bianca and Jenna and everyone, but he manages to snag a friend or two here in BC, easily fitting in. It's different-it's no Degrassi, that's for sure-but hey, he likes it, and his mom is safe. That's what matters. They're happy.
Or, he thought they were, until he comes home to find his mother silently sobbing. It's not the ugly-crying, filled with shuddering, hiccuping breaths and a red face and loud, dying wale noises. She's sitting at the kitchen table with tears rolling down her cheeks. Nothing more.
KC hates himself for it, but his mind thinks the worse right away-did she start drinking again? That thought is quickly followed by Is she hurt? and Am I hurt? and What the hell did I do?
Before he can get the words out, the pleasetellmewhat'swrong she whispers one.
Kevin.
And KC can feel his nose crinkle with disgust, feel the hatred build in his chest, two seconds away from snarling I don't care about him when
He's dead, KC.
And suddenly, the rage is gone, his face sort of falls. He just stands there, staring at his mother, an unwanted feeling taking over, his mouth opening and closing while he figures out what to say. How?
Driving under the influence. He-He hit a tree.
And, well, being honest, KC could've guessed that. Still, he feels it in the pit of his stomach, in the back of his throat, he feels it rolling down his cheek before he can stop it. He's sad and crying and dammit he wants to hit something, break something.
Because he's not supposed to be sad. He doesn't want to be mourning his father, his drunk father, his druggie father, his abusive father, his crackhead father. He doesn't want to mourn the man who ruined his life, who ruined his mother's life, who ruined the chance of them being a family.
He doesn't want to, but he does. He sits with tears in his eyes and in his heart, clenching and unclenching his fists, watching how his knuckles turn white, trying to focus on the muscles in his fingers instead of how many times his father screwed him over.
Lisa puts a hand over his and he lets out a breath, his body deflating, caving in on itself like a popped balloon. At least, that's what it feels like to him. His mother just nods, understanding without speaking, pulling on his arm until they're both standing and then they're hugging and he's losing himself in the scent of her. She smells like cigarettes and coffee and the syrup she had with her waffle for breakfast, and KC holds her tight, never wanting to let go.