Ecstasy

My heart is hammering in my fucking chest and I want to knock his teeth out, but I just stare at him.

“I only say that for your own good. Stay away from her.”

“Don’t talk about her,” I say through gritted teeth. “Don’t say another word about her.”

He stares at me a long moment and then, changing the subject, he asks, “How’s Eli’s season going?” I know why he’s really doing it. To spite me. To rub it in my face that I’m suspended for three games while Eli isn’t.

Three games, over Zara.

But fuck it. I don’t care. I’d do worse for her.

“Wrestling starts in October, Dad. Since Eli is the son you never had, you should know that.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “I’m go

“Don’t you want to stay and wait for your mom?”

“Can’t,” I lie. “I’ve got a sociology test I need to study for before the party tonight.” Bullshit, and we both know it, but Dad doesn’t argue.

Instead, there’s a small smile on his haggard face. “Sociology, huh? You know that transitions well to pastoral care.”

“Dad.” I take a breath, clench my jaw a second. “We’ve been over this—”

“I know, I know.” He holds up his hands in surrender. I see his pale gold wedding band again. Every time I do, it pisses me off even more. He might as well pawn that shit off. We both know it doesn’t mean shit to him. “You don’t want to go into ministry. You’ll make a great lawyer anyway, Alex.”

“Great. Glad you get it.” I make to walk past him, but he claps a hand on my shoulder, and I freeze.

“But as good as your debate skills are, I need you to know that I’m telling the truth, son. I wouldn’t do that to your mother. Not again.”

Bullshit.

“Cool.”

What a pointless fucking stop.