My Heart's in Alabama

27 - Matt

I'm sitting in my room minding my business when I hear a soft knock on my door. I hesitate to say come in, because I'm almost positive it's my dad. I'm sure he wants to "clear the air" or whatever. I've cooled off a little since last night, now I'm hurt and disappointed more than anything else. It hasn't even been a full day, but I miss Kiersten and I miss my friends.

He knocks again, this time a little more forcefully.

"Hey, bud, can I come in?"

I contemplate telling him to go away, I don't want to talk, but truth be told, I don't want him to be mad at me as much as he doesn't want me to be mad at him.

"Yeah."

He opens the door gingerly and kind of peeks his head in, testing the waters before fully stepping in.

"How ya feeling?"

"Okay."

There's an awkward pause. He senses that I'm not totally over it and debates whether to comment on it, or pretend like nothing's wrong. His first approach is the latter. His second approach is to address it head on.

"There's food downstairs if you want some."

"I'm not all that hungry," I say, an immediate signal to my dad that I am in fact, not okay.

Since his attempt to bribe me with food failed, he takes the opportunity to pull up a chair next to me and talk it out.

"You still mad at me?"

"I'm not mad," I say.

I'm really not. Okay, well, maybe a little, but for the most part, no, I'm not mad. Like I said, I miss my friends.

"I, uh, wanted to give you this back," he says and holds my phone out to me. "I crossed a line, I accept that. I shouldn't have taken it and I'm sorry for that."

I stare at my phone being extended to me. A peace offering, I suppose. I don't take it right away. The phone is the least of my worries.

"You can keep the phone," I say. "You can take my TV, my laptop, whatever you want, I don't care. I want to be able to see Kiersten."

My dad hangs his head and sighs, another failed attempt.

"I know," he says and sets my phone on my desk. "It hurts me to do this, but I can't let you off the hook like that. If you got to set the terms, it wouldn't be much of a punishment, would it?"

"Haven't you punished me enough already? You took my phone, wouldn't let me meet up with my friends, and verbally whooped my ass. I've learned my lesson. Fighting was wrong and I'm never going to do it again. I've apologized, I've accepted full responsibility. Please, can't I see her?"

My dad takes a deep breath and for a split second, I swear I see a twinge of guilt in his eyes. I think maybe he's going to change his mind, but he holds firm.

"I'm sorry," he shakes his head. "No."

I feel the sting of tears bite the back of my eyes and my throat get tight. I fight so hard to stop myself from crying, but it's useless. The cold, salty tears roll down my cheeks against my will. I can't believe I'm not going to be able to hang out with her. Sure, I'll see her in school and I can text or call whenever, but it won't be the same. I don't want to see her for five minutes in between classes or talk to her through a screen. I want to sit under the stars, watch movies with her until she starts to drift off and lays her head on my shoulder, and wander around town on a Sunday morning when the sun starts to break. I don't want her some of the time. I want her all of the time.