When Wills was at home he acted as though nothing had happened, and as though we were all right with each other. I pretended nothing was happening as well, because I thought if I didn’t react, his friends would get bored and stop pestering me. Mom said she was glad that we had made up. She wanted me to enter the story competition with a different story, but I didn’t want to, NO WAY JOSE. I was too upset at seeing MY BROTHER ripped to shreds, and I was secretly determined that one day I would write that story again, for myself.
It was a Dad weekend the weekend following the story storm. On Saturday morning, Wills announced that he didn’t want to go, that no one could make him go, that he had better things to do, and that if Dad wanted to see him then he should make the effort and come home. Mom tried to persuade him, but he was stubborn, and when Dad arrived to pick us up he was still refusing to go. Dad didn’t make a fuss, and he didn’t try to change Wills’s mind. I was pleased. I was looking forward to my first Wills-free time with Dad. Then Dad went and spoiled it by saying that he had bought a brand new computer with a new game to play on it, and that he couldn’t wait to play against me. Wills jumped up from the couch.
“Come on, Dad,” he said. “I’m the one you should be playing against if you want a challenge.”
“You said you’ve got better things to do,” I protested.
“They can wait,” said Wills.
“It’s nice to know that it’s my company you can’t do without,” grimaced Dad. “I’d hate to think I was less of a draw than a computer game.”
“Don’t you worry, Dad,” smirked Wills. “The computer game is far more of a draw.”
“Does that mean you’re coming, then?” asked Dad.
“It sure does, Daddy-O,” said Wills. “I’ll just get my stuff.”
I think Dad could tell from the look on my face that I was disappointed. “Perhaps we could go out together one evening, just you and me,” he said.
I nodded, but I thought it was just one of those things that Dad says sometimes but forgets about. Wills came charging back down the stairs, pushed past me, and bagged the front seat of the car, as usual.
“Come on, you two,” he yelled from the window, then he started sending text messages on his cell phone, and I wondered if any of them were to me. Just as we reached Dad’s, a message came through to him and when he read it he became very agitated. He sent another message back, then threw his phone onto the floor of the car when the response came.
“Girlfriend?” chuckled Dad.
“Funny ha ha,” scowled Wills. “I wish I hadn’t come now.”
“I can always take you back,” said Dad.
I wish you would, I thought. I could see it was going to be a lousy weekend.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”Wills challenged Dad. “And you,” he aimed at me.
“For goodness sake, Wills, stop twisting things,” said Dad. “I thought we were all going to have a fun weekend together.”
“It’s not fun being with you,” growled Wills. “You treat me like I’m some sort of idiot.”
“What are you talking about, Wills?” Dad protested. “What have I done?”
“You left home because of me, that’s what you’ve done,” Wills cried. “And Mr. Goody-goody here is always trying to get me into trouble.”
“Of course he’s not,” argued Dad, “and I didn’t leave home because of you. I left home because of me. Because of me, Wills. Because I was making things worse. Because I’m not good at being a dad.”
“You are a good dad,” I jumped in with, stung by Wills’s accusations.
“It’s because of you I can’t see my friends when I want to,” shouted Wills.
“If you want to see your friends, I’ll take you to see your friends.” Dad’s voice was getting louder too.
“It’s too late now,” Wills said sulkily.
“I’m not forcing you to come and stay with me. I’d like you to stay with me, but if you’d rather be with your friends then I understand.”
“They won’t want me now, because I said I was coming with you instead of seeing them, and they think I’m a girl because I didn’t refuse.”
“Nice friends,” muttered Dad.
“At least they respect me,” Wills challenged.
“Sounds like it,” said Dad.
“What would you know?”
Dad wiped the sweat from his forehead. I felt sorry for him. He had been dragged into a confrontation he hadn’t expected and didn’t understand. I understood. I’d seen Wills’s friends in action. I knew what they were like and I guessed that they would give Wills a hard time if he didn’t do what they wanted. Not that Wills would ever believe that, because he wouldn’t want to believe it.
Dad took a deep breath. “Wills,” he began, “can we start this weekend again? Let’s order some pizzas and get on that computer so that you can thrash the pants off me, and then we’ll watch the big game. What do you say, Chris?” I saw Dad’s look of desperation.
“Yeah, come on Wills, you can thrash the pants off me as well,” I said without much enthusiasm.
“Too easy,” grumbled Wills, but he got out of the car and ran to the front door, pushed through it, and knocked loudly on the door of Dad’s apartment as though he was expecting someone to answer it.
“There’s no one in,” said Dad.
“Typical,” scoffed Wills. “I give up seeing my friends to come and stay with my dad, and he’s not even here.”
“Just a minute,” said Dad. He pushed past Wills, unlocked the door, went inside, and closed it behind him.
“Now knock,” he yelled. Wills knocked. Dad opened the door.
“Wills! Chris!” he exclaimed. “How wonderful to see you! Come in, come in.”
“Wonderful to see you too, Daddy-waddy,” said Wills. “What’s to
