Answer no to these questions
Let her go
Learn a lesson
It's not me
You're not listening
Now can't you see something's missing
You forget where the heart is
"I'm not going to break up with her just because you don't think she's right for me," I said. Hell, I almost snapped it. I never snap, especially not at my father.
"Don't you use that tone of voice with me, boy," my dad growled at me. I've never seen him this angry, not even that one time when I crashed his car and totaled it…when I was twelve.
"Honey, aren't you being a little over the top?" my mom asked, coming into the room again and giving a warning glance to my dad.
"She's right, you know," I agreed. Oops, probably shouldn't have said that.
My dad slammed his fists on the kitchen table, causing my mother and I to jump in shock. He slammed them so hard that the nice china my mother had put on the table shook violently with the impact. "And now you're talking back to me, boy? Ooh, I wish I never paid for those Muay Thai classes…"
"Dad, I'm not breaking up with her, and I'm not moving out of our apartment. It's as simple as that. You can't make me, either." I can't believe I even dared to say that last part.
"Want to bet?"
"You can't do this to him," my mother sighed to my father. She was always the voice of reason in the house. I guess that made my parents a nice balance. My dad was the crazed, power hungry guy and my mother was the nice, sensitive woman. Stereotypical, much?
I always vowed to never be like him.
"I sure as hell can do this to him," my father grumbled back at her. I wanted to slap him for being so rude to my mother, especially since she was on my side of the issue, but I thought against it. I thought I might lose an entire arm if I tried. "And you know what? I will do this to him. Phil, I want her out of that apartment. And if she won't leave, I want you to move back here."
I let out a massive groan at his last statement that actually sounded more like a shriek that a sixteen year old girl lets out when her parents ground her for the weekend of homecoming, and she has a date with the captain of the football team, not that I'd know what that feels like. Of course, I had multiple problems with it. First off, he called me "Phil." He damn well knows that I hate that name. But it was his idea to name me that, so maybe that's why I hate it so much. He can't make her move out. If she wants to move out, then I'm shit out of luck. But he can't make me move out, either. And he wants me to move back home?
Oh hell no.
"She's not going anywhere, dad. And neither am I." I tried to make my decision sound as final as possible, not that he'd listen to me, anyways.
"I didn't want to resort to this son," my dad sighed, his anger ebbing away. "There's a reason that I want you to come home."
"Honey…" my mom said. She stepped farther into the room. "We said we weren't going to tell him…"
"Oh, now you guys are keeping secrets from me? Great, I see how much you guys love your son," I said, rolling my eyes.
My dad looked down at the table and then looked back up at me. I've never seen that look in his eyes before, and I couldn't quite put my finger on what emotion it was supposed to be. He took a deep breath before completely shattering my world even more.
"Phil, I'm dying."