Keith
If you think my dad is harsh guy on a regular basis, you should see him whenever he's really upset about something. It's not pretty, and it's not fun. That was the reason I dreaded going home and facing his wrath Saturday after the game. Forget me having to defend my pride, he'd be furious that I had embarrassed myself- excuse me, my family- in public, and I knew it had probably totally humiliated him when Coach Bledsoe (whom my father greatly admired) had called to tell him I'd been in a fistfight.
"Three weeks? Four weeks? Four months?" I muttered outloud as I scuffed out of the locker room and towards the parking lot, wondering how long I'd be grounded for. And when I'm grounded, I'm grounded. No NOTHING extra. Just school and sports practices & games. I clenched my fist. How had Randy gotten punished? Randy never gets in trouble and his parents probably treat him like a saint, so I highly doubted he got anything major. Maybe a talking-to, but most likely nothing more. Disgusting. If his parents only knew what a brat their kid was... He'd probably gone and told them (and the rest of the world) that the whole fight was MY fault, when *he* was the one who started it in the locker room! Most of the kids would probably believe him, too, since he'd been spreading rumors for a while that I was trying to take Jana from him, which of course turned me into The Bad Guy since everyone at school (for some WEIRD reason) think Jana and Randy are the best couple in the world. I gritted my teeth as I started across the parking lot towards where I could see my mom talking with Coach Bledsoe. I would get Randy Kirwan if it was the last thing I ever did. If only Coach Bledsoe hadn't broken us up when he did- then I would've gotten the chance to show Randy a thing or two. I still will when I get the chance, I promised myself. He hasn't seen the last of me yet.
The car ride home went pretty fast. My mom reprimanded me some. The usual 'I'm so displeased with you right now' and 'I really expect better of you' with lots of disappointed looks. I nodded and tried to look sorry, when inside my heart rate was starting to double. I knew my dad would be waiting for me back home and I figured I was in for a BIG LONG TALK. I just hoped I wouldn't say anything that would get me in trouble. My dad is always so unfair when he yells at me that I usually can't help trying to defend myself. Naturally, that makes him all the madder.
Well, here we go, I thought as I walked into the house.
"Keith James Masterson, get in here this minute," came my father's cold voice from the living room an instant later.
"Coming," I sighed, throwing my sports bag to the side. My father was sitting in his usual chair, his back ramrod straight and his eyes burning.
"Sit." He ordered, pointing to the couch. I sat.
"I am so ashamed of you right now I can't express it in words," he said after a deathly pause, and right away I knew I was dead meat. He went on for the next five minutes like that, basically just about how disappointed he was in me and how he expected so much better from me and let me know just how much I'd shamed our family, yada yada yada. I really wish he'd put things in perspective sometimes. There are a lot worse things I could have done besides get into some fight with Randy. I could have shot someone, or robbed a bank, or hi-jacked an airplane even. But I hadn't done any of those things, and my dad was acting like I'd done ALL of them and more! Honestly. Finally I couldn't take it anymore.
"Geez, Dad. I'm SORRY. Okay? I am. I didn't want to get into a fight with anyone and I certainly didn't do it to 'bring shame on our house'," I sighed.
He glared at me. "Don't you EVER interrupt me, do you understand? When I'm talking to you, you listen. I'm not in the mood for any of your backtalk today."
I felt like I was going to explode. "When are you EVER interested in what I have to say? Huh? You haven't even asked me to explain my side of the story yet. All you heard was what Coach Bledsoe told you, and he doesn't know ANYTHING except that Randy and I got into a fight. You're ready to condemn me without understanding what really went on today!"
I had never seen my dad look so mad. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. I had no idea I was raising such a disrespectful teenager. Believe me, from now on, there are going to be some changes around here, because I'm not about ready to put up with this kind of crap. I don't NEED to know why you got in a fight- all that matters is that you were involved in one and made an idiot of yourself."
He's so unfair! I screamed inside, feeling hot tears shoot to my eyes. I looked down and blinked them away. I wasn't about ready to CRY in front of him. But why couldn't he ever give me a chance? I'm sure Randy's parents let him tell his side of things. They probably even ASKED him to. But me? I get yelled at for trying to defend one of my inalienable rights. It wasn't fair.
"John, don't you think we could at least let him tell us what happened today?" My mom said quietly from where she was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room. My father stood up and glared at her.
"You stay out of this, and I already know what happened today," he snapped.
"But-" my mom started.
"You, young man," Dad said ignoring her and turning back to me, "are grounded for a month. No computer time, no time with friends, no nothing. You come straight home from school, unless you have sports practices. " He took a breath then added, "And from now on I'm not tolerating any smart talk from you at all. You obey your mother and me with 'yes sir' and 'yes ma'am', you understand?"
"Why don't you just ask me to drop and do 50?" I snapped standing up, too. A month! I knew I would get it pretty bad, but a whole month with nothing except sports and school... I was going to die.
"You just got another week added on to your punishment," my father retorted, his eyes flaring.
"What?!" I shouted. "That's not fair! You're unfair! You never listen to me, you don't even CARE about me. All you care about it yourself and how YOU look. Why don't you just put me up for adoption, huh?"
"Would you like another week, young man?"
I bit my toungue so hard I could feel it start to bleed. At that moment, I hated my father more then anything. I hated him even more then I hated Randy. I wished he WOULD put me up for adoption.
"Well, I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you. I haven't been trying to be one on purpose, believe it or not. I guess I'll just go up to my room now so that you don't have to look at me anymore," I replied cooly, striding across the room to the stairs. At the bottom of them, I turned around and raised my eyebrows. "Sir."
Then before either one of them said anything else, I stomped up to my room and stayed there for the rest of the evening. I wished I could stay there forever. I didn't care if I never saw my dad again. And my mom- well, she hadn't been much help.
At the same time, I couldn't help thinking how much Randy Kirwan was to blame for this. To think we'd once been friends...! Now thanks to him I was grounded for a month- no, 5 weeks- and on the most horrible terms I could be with my father.
Darn that Randy Kirwan, anyway.
