Chapter 3

As soon as they got home, Anton went off and kept scolding at Trent, which felt like for hours, with Dr. Kevin Gray in the living room, to make sure Anton doesn't go crazy on him.

"Trent, this isn't the first time you've done something like this! You almost gave me a heart attack! How many times do I have to tell you, now? Don't leave the house without…my…permission!"

Dr. Gray was about to say something, but decided not to since this was about Anton and Trent.

"Oh, come on! I was just wanted to get out of the house for a while."

"When I told you no."

Trent did not see what the big problem was. "Why are you worrying so much over something that seems so small? Nothing happened to me this time."

"Yeah, this time, but the next time, something could happen to you, like, I don't know, maybe you met get kidnapped by an old rival and holds you for ransom and revenge. Things like this happen when what comes from leaving the house."

"Well, then, what do you want me do, sit in my room all day?"

"Yes!"

He gave his father this weird look that says, 'Do you really want me to sit in my room all day?' He was starting to get fed up and tired of this pointless argument; it was getting nowhere with them.

"I'm not a baby anymore!" He frowns and folds his arms.

Dr. Gray interrupts the conversation between the two of them. "He knows that, Trent. He knows that. But, it's just that…" Anton cuts him off as he tries to be reasonable to him.

"Look, Trent. I just cannot keep taking this constant worrying anymore. My job is to keep you safe and protected at all time and there's only one way to do that… you've leave me no choice but to ground you for the next week."

Both Trent's and Dr. Gray's head snapped at Anton for what he said that. Dr. Gray though that he had every right to be angry with Trent for sneaking out of the house without his permission, but he didn't want to say anything anymore.

"That's right, Trent; you are not to step a foot at this house for the next week without my permission, you can't leave your room for some time of the day and you can only two-to-three hours of television total for each day for the next week, but absolutely no video games and computer."

Trent was speechless about it. "No. Y-you can't do this."

"It's for your own good." He leads his hand out. "Now, hang over the house key you stole from my office."

"But…but…" Trent looked at Dr. Gray for maybe a little backup, but he had his arms folded and looked the other way, biting down on his lip. As he got the key out of his pocket, he hands it over to him and said,

"It's not fair! You just don't understand anything!" He gets off the couch and out of anger; he kicks a side table, knocking down a lamp and runs out of the room and to his room.

"Trent! Trent!" Anton runs after him, but Dr. Gray stops him.

"Relax, Anton. He needs time to cool down. Just give him some time, okay?" He holds him back.

"Fine." He let out a big sigh. He just hoped that Trent would understand that he is doing this for him, not for himself. To, at least, try to get the moment out of his head; he goes back to work, if he could try to focus on his work. Dr. Gray joins him to help him out with his work.

Later that night, Trent was still in his room, in his white shirt and black and white plaid pajama pants, lying down on his back while he was playing jacks on his bed, still upset about him about being grounded for the next week by his father.

"How could he do this to me? And with my birthday is right around the corner." He let out a depressing sigh as he has his chin on his knees and his arms were folded.

"Man, I never get to have any real fun; never." He bounces the ball, grabs three jacks, and catches the ball before it landed on the bed.

"He worries about every little thing; even when it's not even that serious or that much of a big deal or whatever. It's just not fair!" He throws the ball and jacks at the wall in an act of anger, and puts his hand on his cheek. "I don't know why he wants me to be in this room all day like I'm some little helpless baby."

He sees the small gold frame with him and his late parents in it, smiling like there was no tomorrow.

He wraps the picture around his arms and holds it close to his heart.

"You guys didn't have to worry about me that much." He felt a tear coming down from his eye.

Someone knocks on his door and peeked through the door.

"Trent?"

"Dad?"

He walks in the room with a plate of pasta salad and a glass of water in his hands.

"I got you something to eat, just in case you were hungry."

Trent sits up and is hang over the plate of food.

"Thanks." He begins to eat.

Couldn't take any more of the silence that was in the room, Anton cleared his throat, sat on the bed next to Trent and said,

"Trent, I understood that you're mad with me…"

"I am."

"I know that, and I understand. However, that's part of the job description for being a father. You don't have to like it; but you have to respect it."

Trent looks down as he was drinking from his glass.

"Come on, Trent, at least look at me." He places his hand on Trent's chin, making him look directly at him, face to face.

"I know you don't like, but you know that you have to deal with it and you'll be okay, alright?"

"Yes, dad."

His father gave a small hug, looked at his watch and it was nine.

"Good. It's getting at little late, so why don't you go and gets sleep?"

"Okay."

He grabs the empty plate and glass from his hands and said to him, leaving the room,

"Night, Trent."

"Night, dad."