Devon Hartford - Painless

Oh, shit. My mom had headed me off at the pass.

I was screwed.

CHRISTOS

Blood red salsa blurted out of the squeezable red plastic container and drenched my carne asada burrito.

“You sure you got enough hot sauce?” my grandad asked sarcastically.

I chuckled. “You know I like it hot. This is just for the first bite.”

He smiled and took a bite of one of his chicken tacos, which had only a light drizzling of hot sauce.

We sat at a table outside the Roberto’s on the Pacific Coast Highway overlooking the San Elijo lagoon, having dinner. It had been my suggestion we go out and give Samantha and her parents some space to talk. I think Samantha had made sure she was never alone with them the whole week on purpose.

“Are you worried about Samoula ?” my grandad asked.

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“It’s good we left them alone. Her parents probably want to talk to her. I can’t blame them. She is their daughter, after all.”

I sipped on my Jamaica tea. “Do you think they’re arguing right now?” I asked.

My grandad chewed then swallowed. He chased it with a gulp from his big cup of horchata. “Probably.”

Man, I wish I’d brought a flask so I could spike my Jamaica with some vodka or whatever went with hibiscus tea. The odd thing was, I’d cut back on my drinking more and more since Samantha’s parents had arrived. I’d wanted to spend Spring Break with Samantha so she didn’t have to endure an entire week alone with them. It had been so easy to forget about Brandon and my gallery show. As those pressures had faded from my awareness, the urge to drink had faded with them.

But now that Spring Break was coming to a close, I could feel all those old obligations ready to nip at my heels. I was itching for a drink. But the real reason I wanted to get bombed was because I was scared shitless about what I’d find when I got back to the house tonight.

I took a bite of my burrito and chewed thoughtfully. When I was finished, I said, “I’ve been waiting for her parents to go off on her all week. If you’d heard them on the phone when Samantha told them she wanted to move in with me, you’d be pissing your pants right now like I am. They were totally irate and made all kinds of threats about what they would do if she moved in with us. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get back to the house and she’s gone. Probably cuffed and gagged and thrown into a big duffel bag so her parents can haul her ass back to the east coast.”

“Relax, paidí mou, ” my grandad smiled. “ Samoula is a strong girl. I have a feeling she’s standing up to her parents right now. If they think they can corner her and bully her into giving up and going home, they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.”

He took a big bite of his taco and chomped on it.

“I hope you’re right,” I said before taking a huge bite of my burrito.

I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

SAMANTHA

A big boulder dropped down into my stomach, reminding me that my insides were more intact than I’d realized. I wasn’t a hollowed out husk.

Yet.

But my mom was working on it.

She was right. Without my parents’ signature, I wouldn’t get any loan money at all. I’d have to earn every cent of my tuition and books. I’d never be able to find jobs that paid for everything. But there was no way I was going back to D.C. As far as I was concerned, San Diego was now my home.

Maybe I could plug my parents’ PIN number into the form online and sign it myself? I knew what their number was.

“And don’t think about using our PIN to forge the electronic signature,” Mom chuckled. “We’ve already changed it.”

Wow, Mom had read my mind. I wasn’t surprised. I’d learned most of my dirty tricks from her.

My dad was leaning his elbows on his knees. He looked very tired. “Sam, this was our last resort. We’ve tried reasoning with you, but nothing has worked. We can’t in good conscience let you continue as an Art major. Come back home to American University and get your degree in Accounting. Your mother and I will make sure you don’t have to work and you can focus entirely on your studies. Maybe you’ll even find a boyfriend who is a business major like you. After you graduate, perhaps you can pursue art in your spare time. Everyone needs a hobby.”

A hobby? He was completely insane and it was making me insane. My mom was crazy too. I don’t think they’d listened to a word I’d said all evening. They were ignoring me and trying to grind me down until I agreed to go home.

My head was spinning from all their arguments. I couldn’t deal with either of them. I felt totally betrayed. My parents were treating me like an infant, like I was holding my fingers too close to the flame because I didn’t know any better. They were wrong.

I’d had enough.

“No!” I shouted and literally stomped my foot. “I’m not doing it! I’m not moving back home and I’m not changing my major! If you don’t like it, tough shit! Get out of here! Go home!” I pointed to the front doors. “I’m sure the Motel 6 has a room waiting for you. In fact, let me go pack your bags and I’ll drive you there myself.” I turned and marched toward the stairs, heading toward the guest rooms.

“YOU COME BACK HERE, YOUNG LADY!” Mom roared.

I ignored her.

Until her hand bit into my arm and she whipped me around.

Her other hand clamped on my other arm and she shook me violently with both hands as she screamed in my face, “YOU’RE MOVING BACK TO WASHINGTON D.C. WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT!!”

After she stopped throttling me, I sneered at her. “Are you through?”

Her eyes burned hot with fiery insanity and her brows twisted into a rotten knot. She shouted, “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR BACK TALKING!!”

I glared at her, my lips compressed into a thin line. “No, Mom,” I said calmly.

WHACK!!

She had slapped me across the mouth. My cheek stung.

“YOU WILL DO WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I TELL YOU, AND THAT’S FINAL!!”

I planted my palms against my mom’s chest and shoved her as hard as I could. She reeled backward, her arms pinwheeling, and stumbled into my dad. The two of them fell down on the couch in a tumbled heap.

My hands fisted at my sides. I was ready for whatever she did next. I was going to punch my mom in the face if I had to.

Her eyelids peeled back in stark horror. Her mouth was agape like I was the devil himself. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the devil in this room. She was.

I felt confidence and resolve fill me from head to toe. My heart beat strong in my chest. I was a rock, and neither of my parents were going to budge me. “I’m not doing anything you say. Mom—” I sneered when I said the word ‘Mom’ “—Linda. Whoever you are. You’re the worst parent ever. You’re a bully and you’re a jerk. Go back to D.C. where you belong. And take your loan money with you.”

I turned and calmly walked out of the living room.

SAMANTHA

Luggage banged around inside the guest room while my parents packed. After our argument, I think they’d decided to stay at the Motel 6. I imagined my mom would’ve been throwing dishes against the wall, or at me, if it had been her house and her dishes. Since she couldn’t, the only thing she could do was assault her shoes, her clothes, and her travel kit as she shoved everything into her suitcase.

I stayed in my room with my door closed because I was convinced that if I looked at my mom one more time, I was going to vomit. My face still stung and throbbed where she’d slapped me. Every thump I felt in my cheek steeled my resolve to stay in San Diego and stay with Christos.