Zenon's Game Chapter 264

I tried to process what was happening. I tried to unsee my mom standing outside the same house I thought she abandoned.

I looked away from the window to my boyfriend at the center of attention. The crowd directed their applause at him.

His hair was so dark against the backdrop of the white fireplace behind him. He was tall, standing there with his hand in his pocket. Zenon has a strong presence, thanks to his muscular build, visible even under his clothes. I tried not to think of what was under his clothes...

He cleared his throat and his voice carried across the room, deep and raw, and entirely unwilling to be here:

"Thanks for coming. I missed my eighth birthday party, so I'm glad to relive that lost time today."

The crowd laughed more than his mother, who had spent the time blowing up blue balloons and preparing the basketball themed party-food today.

"That's right. He missed the party because he had a game that day," Mr Albert commented, swerving back into a speech of athleticism and praise.

The speech droned on, describing a future of accomplishments, like it was a roadmap everyone was so sure Zenon would breeze through.

Zenon resented that. He's made it look like a breeze so far – if you don't look beyond the scoreboards and attitude.

"Are you ok?" Jake whispered to me, "You looked like you saw a ghost and now you're smiling. It's creepy."

Jake brought me back to my reality. I didn't know how long my mom would be standing outside my house before she'd disappear again. What if she was coming back to pick up the last of her things? Would I ever see her again?

I never saw my dad again.

Would Zenon notice if I left now? I'm trying to support him, but my life is falling apart. What is my life plan? When my family is gone, how can I look after myself?

"I need to go," I whispered, hearing my voice, though not registering the movements my mouth must've made to say it.

"What do you-" Jake tried to convince me to stay, but I was insistent.

I didn't want to make a scene and neither did he. He didn't understand but accepted that I had to leave.

I looked beyond Jake, at my boyfriend who was accepting a slice of congratulatory cake as if he was that cute eight-year-old kid. I saw his blue eyes glance across the room, and I knew he was looking for me. I looked away before he could find me.

Leaving the party brought me back to reality.

I saw her - my mother - wrapped in a dark purple coat that reached her knees. She was standing at the front door in black boots with a black purse slung over her shoulder.

My mind battled two different instincts. Part of me wanted to run into her arms and be cradled like a scared child. The other part wanted me to vent my frustration, my anger and disappointment at what she'd done.

I am a scared child. I am all those emotions and more.

"Mom," I called out.

The word felt weird now.

"Why is there a padlock on my front door?" she replied, turning around to me.

She was just as I remembered her, though less tired and with more make up. The last month had been good to her. It's had the opposite effect on me.

"Because someone broke into the house," I replied, devoid of any emotion.

"I know. Those damn cops won't stop calling me," she sighed, letting go of the padlock and it banged against the wooden door.

I stared at it: the symbol that my boyfriend and his brother cared about me when my family didn't.

"Where have you been?" I asked quietly.

This felt surreal.

"Don't be so nosy," she answered, throwing the front door open, "What's that sound?"

I heard the banging upstairs. It must be the gambler's friend hammering wooden slabs over the broken window. I forgot to introduce our guests.

"Is someone in my house?" she yelled out, screaming into the empty building, "Who's there?! Come downstairs!"

I cared zero for her questions.

"A home invasion, mom, that's what I went through," I reminded her. "Do you know how that can f*ck a person up? They came into my bedroom while I was inside, and where were you?"

My mom turned to look at me and, this time, I think she actually saw me. At least she heard the trauma in my voice. Maybe my words went through her skull for once.

Footsteps on the stairs interrupted our moment.

"What's with the attitude?" the gambler's friend demanded, walking down with a power drill in his hand.

My mom gasped, looking terrified, "Who are you?!"

"Don't ask him any questions," I said. It was part of our deal.

~Zenon's POV~

This party was draining my energy and I walked up to the one person who I knew would drain it dry.

"Jake," I said, "What did you say to her?"

His watermelon head babbled something incoherent, so I repeated myself. "She was talking to you and then she left. What did you say?"

There is only one person I want to see at this party and she just walked out.

I don't blame her. Three seconds with Jake and I'd walk out too.

A random old person interrupted us to talk about basketball, college and whatever irrelevant accomplishments my dad sprouted. His speech made it sound like I was the future president. I thanked the guy and pointed him towards my parents, who were much more receptive to praise.

Then Jake picked up where we left off. "You must be really insecure if you think I could say something to her-"

"If you don't answer the f*cking question, I have no problem making your head swell again," I threatened, "This place doesn't have enough balloons."

That was 100% sarcasm.