Page 24 of The Do-Over
ROB
Rob parked in his usual place across the street from his father’s house, in the shadowy place where the two nearest streetlights wouldn’t shine on him and reveal his arrival.
My father’s house.It occurred to him to wonder how long it had been since he’d thought of this place as his own home. He couldn’t remember ever feeling comfortable and at ease here.
His father’s shiny, expensive car was in the driveway. It made his own car look like an embarrassment by comparison. Rob had seen Thea noticing the state of his car the first time she’d been inside it—she’d clearly been surprised—but he wasn’t ashamed of owning a crappy car. Better to have a car that was completely his, a car that he had paid for himself, than to let his father buy one for him and have the power to take it away if he decided he wasn’t happy with Rob.
Which he did. Frequently.
Rob reclined his seat and stared up at the roof of the car, collecting himself. That breakup had been awful. He really hadn’t seen it coming—he’d had no idea, when he had gone over to Thea’s house, that it could possibly end that way.
He didn’t want to go inside. Not while he was feeling like this. There was no way of predicting what mood his father would be in today, and Rob wanted time to grapple with his own emotions.
Then the porch light turned on.
Rob swore inwardly. That meant his father had seen his car. If he tried to wait out here much longer, his father would come out and confront him, and any possibility of a peaceful evening would be gone.
He steeled himself and got out of the car, slinging the duffel bag with his basketball gear over one shoulder. He was still sweaty. Maybe he would be able to hurry straight to the shower without his father stopping him.
The moment he opened the front door, though, he smelled the alcohol, and his stomach dropped.
So it was going to be that kind of night.
He tried to slip up the stairs without being heard, but his father’s bellow came from the living room. “Rob!”
He closed his eyes and weighed the options. Face the inevitable or run for the bathroom, lock himself in, and hope his father forgot about him by the time he was done showering?
His father took the choice out of his hands by staggering through the open doorframe. “You’re late,” he snarled.
“I had a ball game tonight, Dad.”
His father cursed at him. “I needed you to go to the store for me, and now it’s too late.”
“I can go out,” Rob said quickly.
“The hell you can. I wanted smokes. I’m out. And they don’t sell them after nine!”
This was true—a peculiarity of Deer Ridge that Rob fervently wished the city would do away with. It would save him a lot of unpleasant confrontations.
“I’ll go out in the morning and get you a pack,” he said, starting for the stairs. “I’ll go before school, okay?”
He was aware of the sound of shattering glass—he didn’t actually see his father throw the bottle. Whiskey splattered on his jeans. Rob froze and exhaled slowly, thankful that his father’s aim was no good. If the bottle had struck him, it wouldn’t have been the first time.
“I’d have gone myself,” his father said. “But my keys are missing.” He glowered. “You took them again, didn’t you?”
“Dad, you can’t drive,” Rob said. “You can’t drive when you’ve been drinking. You’ve already gotten a warning.” It was a warning that would have been a citation for anybody else in town, but his father was an attorney, and he was well-connected. He’d managed to talk his way out of trouble that time, but Rob didn’t think he would be that lucky twice.
If it wasn’t for the fact that his driving would put everyone else in Deer Ridge in jeopardy, I would let him do it. The hell with him. It’s not my job to protect him from himself.
“Where are my keys?” his father demanded, grabbing Rob by the upper arms and shaking him.
It didn’t work the way it had when Rob was younger, when he had been legitimately terrified of his father’s rages. His father was still bigger than he was, though, and still outweighed him by at least fifty pounds. And Rob had spent enough of his life fearing this man that his approach set his heart pounding even now.
He thought of the keys, which he had concealed beneath the floorboard under his bed. He’d sneak them back onto their hook tonight so that his father would be able to drive to work in the morning. Or maybe he’d leave them somewhere unusual, like the kitchen counter. Maybe his father could be persuaded that he had just overlooked them.
“I don’t know where they are,” he said, shoving his father away a little more roughly than he would have dared even a month ago. I’m getting out of here. I don’t need to let him push me around anymore.
But his father grabbed his arm again and whipped him back around so they were face to face. He raised his fist.
