Page 33 of Finding Kyler
“I gave up my life, and none of you give a shit.”
“You are frigging pathetic. A sorry excuse for a father. A husband. Maybe it’s time Mom knew what a whoring, cheating slime ball she’s married to.”
My eyes bounce from Kyler to James as aggression and hostility drives a further wedge between them.
“Where were you tonight?”
“That’s none of your business, Kyler.” Kyler squares up to him. “Go on, I dare you.” James rather stupidly challenges his son. Kyler’s jaw clenches and unclenches, and James barks out a laugh. “Yeah. Didn’t think so. Maybe the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree?”
“I am nothing like you! NOTHING!” Kyler shoves his dad as he yells at him, and I gasp, drawing both their attention. I think they had forgotten I was here.
James takes a step back, dragging his hands through his hair as he curses again. “Go to bed, both of you. We’ll discuss this in the morning.” Ignoring us, he stumbles toward the kitchen.
Kyler is pumped to explode. I see it in the rigid way he holds his body and the barely restrained expression on his face. An unbidden urge to comfort him accosts me, but I push it away. Much like he did to me minutes earlier. Humiliation regurgitates in the pit of my stomach, and I welcome it, using it to swat my empathy away.
I push off the wall and start walking toward my bedroom. Kyler’s quiet footsteps follow me, and a dangerous aura bleeds into the air. My hand is clasped around the door handle, when Kyler grips my elbow, swinging me around to face him. His rage is still boiling away underneath the surface, and the look in his eyes scares me a little. I’m not sure what he notices on my face, but his look softens. “Don’t try to fit in here,” he says quietly, “because you don’t belong. You shouldn’t belong. You should leave.” He stares at me, letting his words settle. Perhaps he’s waiting for a hostile reaction, but he can wait until the cows come home for all I care. I’m too tired and upset to enter into another battle with him. He strokes my cheek once and then walks away.
He’s a mass of contradictions.Unfortunately, that only seems to enhance his appeal.
I’m one sick bitch, that’s for sure.
Shuffling into my room, I climb into bed as if on autopilot. Even though the covers are tucked right up under my chin, I can’t stave off the violent trembling that has taken hold of me. Everything that’s transpired today plays on a continual loop in my head until, eventually, exhaustion consumes me and I conk out.
Both James and Kyler lay low the next day, obviously licking their wounds, and I’m glad. I still haven’t figured out what the hell is going on between Kyler and me and Kyler and his dad, and I don’t want or need any more drama. If what Kyler insinuated is true, James has gone downhill in my estimation. So far, he has been an absolute gentleman—but last night I witnessed a different side to him.
A side that I don’t much care for.
Not for the first time, I question why I didn’t do a bunk before he even showed up to claim me. Perhaps I should’ve sought a second legal opinion, and contested my parents’ will. Maybe I accepted this guardianship far too easily.
I hope I won’t regret the decision to come and live here.
Already, it feels like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.
I take a lengthy swim, allow Keaton to teach me how to play NBA on Xbox, and concoct a pasta bake and salad for lunch. Cooking has always helped calm me down, and I desperately need that today.
At four p.m., I am leaving the house for my trial shift at the diner when Alex’s assistant, Courtney, arrives. I stop in my tracks, assuming she’s here for me. Her features are pinched, and her face looks glum as she steps into the lobby. “What?” she hisses, noticing my gaze.
“Do you need me for something?”
“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she snaps, and I’m taken aback at the resentment in her tone.Surely, that can’t be directed at me?I’m struck by the sense that she’s doing this job out of necessity rather than any genuine love for it.
As Max drives me to work, I’m nervous but excited. I’m actually delighted to be getting out of the stifling atmosphere in the house. Alex and Keanu are returning tonight, and I’m hoping that the ambience will have improved by the time I get back.
But it’s more than that. It feels great to have a job again. To have a purpose and something productive to occupy my time. I’ve worked, in some capacity, since I was fourteen, and I like it—the freedom and the empowerment that comes from earning my own cash.
Rose greets me with a big smile when I arrive. “I thought you might chicken out.” She hands me a uniform.
“Why on earth would you think that?” I ask, hugging the clothes to my chest.
“I’m wondering why you’re doing this. It can’t be that you need the money.”
I’m thinking that’s a little too nosy from someone who’s still pretty much a stranger. She was affable last night, and she seems like the type I could become friends with, but I don’t know her from Adam. “I have my reasons,” is all I offer up.
“’Kay,” she says pleasantly, not put out by my obvious evasion.
I change in the small locker room out back. The red-and-white striped knee-length dress and matching apron is not the height of fashion, but it’s comfortable and practical, and I can live with it.
Rose shows me the ropes, explaining how things work and showing me where everything is. In between training, she serves customers at the counter while the other waitress on duty attends to the customers seated at tables. After a half hour, she sends me out on the floor, and I get to it.
