True Colors
Vivi Ann sighed. Did they really have to have the your-room-my-house conversation every day? “I knocked. You didn’t answer.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“That’s because you listen to music that’s too loud.”
“Whatever.”
She refused to take the bait. Instead, she reached out to tuck the hair behind his ear the way she used to, but he shrank back from her touch. “What happened to us, Noah? We used to be best friends.”
“Best friends don’t jack your Xbox and TV out of your room.”
“You got suspended from school. Was I supposed to send you flowers? Sometimes parents have to make hard decisions to do what’s best for their kids.”
“I don’t have parents. I have you. Unless you think Dad is making hard choices about me in his cell.”
“I don’t know why you’re so angry these days.”
“Whatever.”
“Please stop saying that. Come on, Noah, how can I help you?”
“Give me back my TV.”
“That’s it, that’s your answer. You get in a fight at school and—”
“I told you it wasn’t my fault.”
“Nothing ever is, is it? You’re like a fight magnet, I guess.”
“Whatever.” He glared at her. “You know everything.”
“I know this: you’re a member of the Bits and Spurs 4-H Club, and as such, you’re supposed to be making a poster for your stall.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m showing at the fair this year.”
“Then I’m crazy.”
He jumped off the bed. His iPod swung from his earbuds and then fell, clattering to the plywood floor. “I won’t do it.”
“What’s the alternative? You going to sit in this room all summer, staring at where your TV used to be? You don’t do sports, you won’t do chores around here, and you don’t have friends. You can damn sure go to the fair.”
He looked so hurt that Vivi Ann wanted to apologize. She shouldn’t have said that about his lack of friends.
“I can’t believe you said that. It’s not my fault I don’t have any friends. It’s yours.”
“Mine?”
“You’re the one who married a killer and an Indian.”
“I’m tired of this same argument, Noah, and I’m tired of you sitting around doing nothing and feeling sorry for yourself.”
“I’m not showing at the fair. Only girls show horses. I take enough crap already. All I need is Erik, Jr., to see my pink and blue glitter why-I-love-my-horse poster.”
“That was a great poster. Everyone loved it.”
“I was nine. I didn’t know any better. I am not showing at the fair this year.”
“Well, you’re not sitting home all summer.”