Dark Blue

Valentine

Garrett's words echoed in my head, and I felt like the entire room was spinning. I took a few deep breaths and shoved my fingers through my tangled mess of hair. There had to be some sort of mix up. Something wasn't right.

Why hadn't I heard anything about the sentencing hearing? I mean, like Gare said, I was at the epicenter of everything. So why didn't I have a clue about any of this? My stomach churned as my head reasoned through it, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I didn't want it to be right.

I summoned all the strength I had in my body to get up off of my bed and trudge down the stairs. My parents were sitting in the living room, and I cleared my throat. Both of them looked up, innocent and unsuspecting. I almost felt guilty for my rage.

"What's up, Valie?" Dad asked, setting the newspaper on the coffee table. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, twisting a stray strand of hair tightly around my finger.

"Why didn't you guys tell me?" I asked, my voice cracking. I cursed internally, my frustration starting to show through on my face. I had meant to sound strong, but instead, I could hear the hurt seeping into my words.

"Tell you what?" Mom asked, and I shook my head angrily.

"About the sentencing hearing!" I spat out, and they exchanged a look. "Or, while I'm at it, about anything that's been going on with the case!"

"Valie, sweetheart, we can explain," my mom offered, starting to stand. I took a step back, my eyes hardening.

"So explain."

"The driver plead guilty, which meant you didn't have to testify.We didn't tell you about the sentencing because we didn't want to reopen the wounds when they were just starting to heal. Our lawyer called to ask if you would speak at they sentencing hearing. Your father and I have been discussing it and trying to figure out what's best for you," she explained calmly, and I started to shake my head. "Don't be upset, we were just-"

"No! You don't get it, do you? I'm eighteen- almost nineteen- years old, Mom! I can make my own decisions, especially about this!"

"Sweetie, calm down."

"Don't tell me to just calm down! That man hit the car with my friend and me in it! He killed my best friend and messed me up! I think I should get to be able to speak for myself and decide whether or not I want to speak to against the man who did all of this to me! I should get to decide whether or not I get this closure! Don't you get it?" I yelled, not caring that I was by all means causing a scene. My parents' faces were turning red, but I didn't care. To me, it just looked like guilt.

"We should have told you," Dad said quietly, just as my mom looked about ready to blow a gasket. "You're completely right. This wasn't our decision to make for you."

I nodded, starting to calm down slightly, but not nearly as much as they would have liked. "Ever since the accident, the two of you have been treating me like a kid! I'm a little broken, but not completely dependent."

"There's a lot we need to talk about," Dad agreed, placing his hand on Mom's shoulder. Her mouth was in a set line, like it used to get when he called to tell her he had to stay late at the office. None of it really registered to me, though.

"And we can talk about it. Later. But I am going to the hearing," I said firmly.

"Okay," Dad nodded. "If it's all right with you, we'd like to be there, too."

"Okay," I nodded, looking between them. "I'll be back for dinner."

I started up the stairs to grab my phone, but I barely made it to the first step before my mother's voice called after me. "Where exactly are you going?"

"Out. To clear my head," I snipped before continuing. My phone was lit up with missed calls and texts, but I ignored them as I shoved my phone into my pocket. I shut my door but skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs. A shrill scream was floating up the stairs, one I hadn't heard since I was a kid.

"I thought we were a team here!" Mom shouted, and I ducked down to see what was going on below. She had her hands on her hips, and her eyes were narrowed like slits at Dad.

"We are! But as a team, we were wrong," Dad defended, trying to keep his voice down. I crouched there, frozen. I hadn't seen them argue in a very long time.

"Whose side are you even on?" she screamed back, her face flushing crimson.

"Melissa..."

"I'm your wife!"

"And she's our daughter!"

I inhaled sharply at my father's outburst. Whenever they argued, or I argued with them, he had always been the one to keep his cool. Through stomping up stairs and slamming doors, he had never raised his voice. Not for broken windows or my mom buying me a car without telling him. His yell put a knot in the pit of my stomach, and there was a part of me that reverted back into a little girl as I curled against the banister.

"Exactly! She's our daughter, and we have to protect her!"

My mother's voice cracked, and I could see it in her eyes that she was just as surprised as I was. Dad pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. My heart was thumping uncontrollably.

"At some point, we have to let her make her own decisions," he said much softer. "She was completely right. We had no business not telling her about this. She's an adult, and she's been through hell."

"Which is why she shouldn't have all this weight on her shoulders!" Mom snapped, pacing over to the couch. Her voice was wavering, but her volume was increasing again.

"She's not a child, Melissa," Dad said irritably, his voice falling low. "And if you keep treating her like one, all you're going to do is push her right out of our lives. We almost lost her once, and quite frankly, I never want to even come close again."

I felt a lump in my throat, and tried to swallow it down. I couldn't keep listening anymore. I stood up shakily, my feet clunking against the wooden stairs. They were both quiet as I left, and I passed my mother in the foyer. Neither of us said a word, and I looked over her shoulder to where Dad remained. My heart twisted in my chest as I saw the tears flooding out of his eyes.

"I'll be back for dinner," I repeated, this time much calmer.

Both of them looked up and nodded. My dad reached to wipe his eyes, and my Mom twisted her wedding ring around her finger. Her gaze seemed to be a million miles away, and it scared me.

"I love you both," I said loud enough so they could hear, and then I walked out the door before they saw the warm tears falling down my own cheeks.