Tainted

"We're not talking about this anymore, Spencer."

My mother looks between my father and I. She can sense what I've felt for the entire time I've been talking to my dad. Tension.

"You will not continue to see him while you're under my roof."

Him.

I close my eyes and let out a frustrated breath. I'm trying to have a mature conversation and my dad continues to treat me like a child. Ever since I began dating Derek, my father has called Derek "him".

"He loves me, and I love him!" I shout. "What part of that is so hard to believe?"

He doesn't understand our relationship. Never has, apparently never will. For the past six months, I've been trying to explain to him that Derek isn't the person he thinks he is, but my father refuses to listen. He bases all of his opinions of Derek on the night he and my mom met him. Ever since then, he says we've been moving too fast.

"Calm down." My father says deathly quiet, "All your mother and I are saying is that we don't think Derek is the right boy for you."

I bite my lip to keep from crying and clutch the couch I'm standing by to keep steady.

"You don't even know him." I whisper.

"And I don't want to know him, Spencer." He stands up, "A father knows. A father knows."

A father knows what!?

I must have say that aloud, because my dad answers.

"A father knows what's best for his daughter. Now," he begins, "You're seventeen and you live under my roof."

I hold up my hand and stop him.

"Graduation is in one month and so is my birthday."

My dad laughs, "You're point is?"

I resist the urge to stomp my feet, thus giving my dad another reason to think I'm a child.

“My point is I'm moving out.” I seethe, “Right after graduation, I’m moving in with Derek.”

The color drains from my father’s face and my mom looks on the verge of tears. I almost reach out to hug her. Almost. My dad has pushed me to far this time and I refuse to show him any weakness.

My dad quickly recovers.

“You think you're’ going to make it out there?” he says.

I won’t be out there alone, I’ll be with Derek.
“Fine.” he continues, “Pack your bags now, because as soon as you graduate, you’re leaving.”

My father gestures towards the door.

“And when this little “relationship” of yours doesn’t work out,” My father draws out the words, “Don’t expect to come walking back through that door again.”
I stand stunned.

That was a low blow, Dad.

I don't believe I'll ever break up with Derek, but for my father to even insinuate that he won't welcome me back if something happens between me and Derek just rubs me the wrong way.

On to my last resort.

I look at my mother. I don't know why, but I'm shocked. She hasn’t said anything this entire time. The look she gives me now says she doesn’t plan to comment on anything either.

“Mom!” I shout.

Her head is back down and she’s avoiding eye contact.

A few tears slip out, but I hastily wipe them away.

“I’m so glad I’m moving out,” I say, “I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid!”
I slam the couch, but the softness of the furniture defeats my attempt to bring focus to my mother.

“You’ve never cared about me.” I’m crying freely now. “It’s always been Derek. And, you know what? I think you’re jealous of Derek, because you can’t love me the way he does.”

My dad opens his mouth his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He just looks stunned.

Good. It's his turn to be blindsided. I want him to feel exactly what I feel right now.
"Go to your room, Spencer!"

I raise my eyebrows in defiance and resist the urge to giggle. Oh my God, my dad really has the audacity to yell at me? Now? He has absolutely gone off the deep end.

I decide not to stick around and I willingly go to my room. After awhile, I start to pack my clothes.

~~~~~~~

One month later, no one comes to my graduation. It’s expected, but I cry anyways. When my friends ask why I'm crying, I just reply I’m happy that senior year is over. I’m too embarrassed to really tell them that my parents basically disowned me. It makes me sad, but more angry than anything. I can’t believe they didn’t show! My parents have some nerve and I think I’m going to give them a piece of my mind when I get home.

I drive with a purpose, all the way to my house (or rather, former house). All the while, I'm wiping my tears. No way, I'll let my parents see me like this.

I park my car and get out of the car, practically running to the front door. I see my bags on the front steps, but I dig my keys from my purse anyways. When I locate it, I jam my key into the lock.

It’s not going in! It won’t open!

It doesn’t take but a minute to figure out that I've been locked out of my own house and that I'm never going to be welcomed back.

I slump against the door, suddenly exhausted and just sit.

I've sat for an hour when I finally get up to grab my clothes. I'm grateful for the wheels on my suitcases, but that's all I can really be happy for. During an entire month of silent treatment from my parents, I barely had time to tell Derek that I was moving in. He's been a little weird the past few weeks and I'm not sure what to make of his behavior.

I get in my car and drive to Derek's house as slow as I can without the possibility of getting honked at.

When I get to his apartment, I leave my things in the car; to tired to fetch them.

I knock on the door and immediately someone answers the door.

"Hey." I smile weakly.

Notes

What do you guys think? Honest opnions :)

Does anyone know how to add authors to a story?