My return home is like having a birthday party at a funeral or going to Disney World for the first time, only to discover that the whole park burned down a week earlier.
All I could think about was my dad's plan to convince the Moon's to sell their house, something I definitely wasn't going to let happen, even if it meant us moving so that he could find an opportunity somewhere else.
"Surprise!" Dad shouts when I open the front door, only to reveal a "welcome home" banner, limp blue balloons, and James blowing into a party favor with the most bored expression I had ever seen in my entire life.
"Welcome home, Micha!" Dad shouts, his arms outstretched, before he walks over to give me a hug. "James and I missed you so much, buddy!"
"Uh, thanks? But I was only gone for a few weeks, and you were working ninety percent of the time, remember?" I wheel back in my wheelchair before dad can touch me, much to his surprise. As if on cue, the banner behind him snaps and falls, crumpling to the floor. It was a sad sight, and it made me kind of angry too, because what the hell was there to celebrate anyway? He'd lied to my mother and me.
"Well," Dad says, still trying to put on a cheerful face, "I got you something. I pulled a few strings and talked to a couple of people. James? Can you bring it over?"
James hesitates, then he picks up a box covered in red wrapping paper and brings it over. "It was his idea, not mine," he informs me while pushing up his glasses with one finger.
Dad hands me the box, and I slide it over, trying to feel how heavy it is before I start opening up the paper. "What is it?" I ask them, and I peel off the tape, "You guys are acting like it's my birthday."
"It needs to be sized, but I figured you'd like it," Dad explains eagerly, "it's custom painted by an artist in France." He watches me with hawk eyes as I open the box and pull out this metal foot looking thing painted graffiti style, red with a weird doll looking girl holding a dead possum.
I drop the box as I take it out, a grimace on my lips. It wasn't that I was ungrateful, but a slap to the face would have been a better surprise at this point. My dad was making this whole situation better than it was supposed to be, like he wanted me to be excited or something.
"He hates it," James tells dad, his arms crossed. "I told you, didn't I? We should have gotten him tickets to his favorite band instead. Or a pie. Everyone likes pie, don't they?"
And then it hits me: this was about.
"Did mom tell you that we talked a few days ago?" I ask my dad, whose expression freezes in an instant. "Because she already knows about the accident. I told her everything." Okay, not everything, but he didn't need to know that.
"You what?" He questions, "Micha, what the hell did you do?" His expression contorts, angry and annoyed, and possibly a little hurt by what I'd done.
"I told her the truth!" I shout at him, "Something that you can't seem to do, dad! And I know about what you want to do to Asa and his family, too! Mom told me how you want to manipulate them into selling their house! Do you realize how sick that is? Don't you care about anyone but yourself!?"
James takes a step back, his eyes darting from me, then back to dad.
"I'm trying to hold this family together!" Dad screams, "This is my opportunity to live the way that I want to live with my two kids! Under my terms, not your mother's!"
"Yeah, well, good luck with that!" I yell back, "I'm out of here!"
"Micha!" Dad yells as I wheel myself right back out of the house and down the ramp he'd built for me while I was gone. I make sure to slam the door closed and everything on my way out, then I push myself down the driveway, towards the woods. This turns out to be a mistake because wheelchairs aren't that great on grass and pebbles, so I get stuck as soon as I roll past the treeline, mud coming up around my feet.
"Fuck!" I hiss, and I jerk back and forth to try to get free. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Something rustles in the trees overhead, then there's a quiet screech. It sounded like Asa's call when he was an owl, so I automatically assume it's him hovering around waiting for the right moment to show up in one of his weird outfits. "Haha, really funny!" I yell at the trees, "You're a real comedian! Why don't you come down here and help me out, bird brain?"
The trees rustle again, then a pale face appears among the leaves, and the barn owl, several feet up, bobs his head in a circle before turning it upside down to stare at me.
"Dude! Seriously!" I grit through my teeth, "It's getting dark! I need some help before the wolves decide to gnaw my other foot off!"
The owl vanishes into the leaves, then rustles around. A beat later, I see something white fly behind the trees like a ghost and vanish from view. It was bizarre how silent owls were when they flew, making virtually no sound aside from bumping into branches. Even the owl book that James had gifted me had called them flawlessly designed predators.
"Do you always talk to the wildlife?" A voice floats over, and this tall figure steps out from behind the bushes. At first, I wondered if Asa had gone through a growth spurt; they both had the same fluffy blonde hair, though this guy's was longer, like a mullet. But he was much older than Asa, and he was dressed in this sleek-looking black biking suit.
"Who the hell are you?" I demand, my heart starting to pound at the sight of him. If he decided to attack me out here, there was no way I would be able to fend him off for long.
"Soren," The pretty boy replies, and he holds a hand out towards me, "I'm Asa's older brother."
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