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“I hope you’ll learn from this. I would hate for you to jeopardize any college opportunities because of this foolish behavior.”

“It won’t happen again,” I tell her even though I doubt that it won’t. Next time I will just have to be more careful about not getting caught.

When the meeting concludes, I head out and drive home. I’m already sick to my stomach before I pull into the driveway. Knowing what’s waiting inside that house has me hating my life. There’s nothing I can do to avoid it, so when I step out of my car, I erect all my defensive walls because I refuse to expose my weaknesses.

I walk inside and find Kurt sitting on the couch, drinking a beer. It’s only ten in the morning, but he’s a loser, so it’s to be expected.

“What are you doing home?”

I ignore him and head into the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge.

“I asked you a question.”

“Where’s my mom?”

“I asked you a question, boy!” he barks as he stands from the couch.

My patience is shot today and it’s taking a lot of self-control to keep myself in check, but I’m boiling beneath the surface. His attention diverts away from me when my mother comes out of her bedroom.

“What’s going on?” Her voice is groggy as she drags her feet into the kitchen and secures the tie around her robe. “Why aren’t you at school?”

“The principal has been trying to call you this morning.” I tell her as I pop the tab on my soda and take a drink.

“Why? What did you do?”

Her accusation annoys me. The fact that her immediate assumption is that I did something wrong hurts even though it’s the truth.

“I got suspended for the week.”

“Why?”

“Alcohol.”

I take another swallow of my soda as Kurt shakes his head as if he’s disappointed. But to be disappointed in a person, you have to actually care. All Kurt cares about is the free ride he’s getting, mooching off my mother and sucking the money and life out of her.

“I’ve tried telling you that he has a drinking problem, Miranda.”

“I know,” she agrees as she walks over to pour herself a cup of coffee as if she can’t even be bothered by the fact that I got in trouble.

“Look in the mirror,” I mumble beneath my breath.

“What did you just say?” Kurt’s tone comes out hard and loud.

Righting my spine, I set the can down and strengthen my voice. “I said, look in the mirror.”

He stalks over to me, and I want to cower, but I refuse. Instead, I brace myself for the inevitable. In the background, I catch my mother scurrying away back to her bedroom.

“You think you’re a tough guy, huh?”

“You said it, not me.”

My demeanor only serves to piss him off more. He steps up to me and gets in my face, seething, “You’re nothing but a shit stain.” His breath reeks of beer and cigarettes. “Nobody cares about you, not even your mom. She doesn’t give a rat’s ass, which is why she’s enjoying her morning cup of coffee in her room instead of dealing with you. If she cared at all, she’d be in here, but all you do is remind her of your father and the crap life she had with him.”

Heat erupts beneath my skin, and when my hand clenches, I throw my fist toward him, but the asshole dodges and sucker-punches me in the gut. Hunching over, I heave against the spasm of pain that’s rippling through me. It takes a second before I’m able to suck in a decent breath and straighten. When I do, Kurt’s gone, leaving me with so much hate boiling inside.

I reach for my keys, but Kurt must’ve swiped them because they’re no longer on the counter. With too many pent-up emotions, I lose control and punch the marble countertop so hard I hear bones crack.

“Fuck!” I scream through gritted teeth as fire pierces my knuckles, scorching them in a current of agony.