Sequel: Cancer ›
Vegas Boys
Chapter 1
A violently green road sign interrupted the dull grays and browns and reds of the bleak desert landscape, a blur of color amid a sea of vacant desolation--an oasis with no hope or relief to offer. "LAS VEGAS, 21 MILES" blared across the sign in white letters.
"Almost there," noted Chris cheerfully, as if our arrival was something to be anticipated rather than dreaded. Maybe for him it was. Me--I was being marched to my exile.
Twenty-one miles. I had twenty-one miles left. And then I would be abandoned here in the desert heat to suffer through a whole summer on my own.
My mother twisted around in the passenger seat to flash me a reassuring smile. "Your father will be glad to see you," she said, trying to sound encouraging and mostly failing.
I nodded softly, my gaze lost somewhere out the window. I didn't necessarily agree with her. Mom always said that Dad had trouble showing his feelings, that he really cared about me more than he could ever say. But I didn't really see what difference it made if he loved me or not if he didn't act like he did.
Dad was a big man, tall and muscular with a square jaw perpetually dotted with residual stubble that no amount of meticulous shaving could clear entirely. He looked awkward with his large frame forced into a business suit, but he wore them so continually that I no longer noticed. He had run away to Vegas when he was eighteen, which is where he met my mother; she lived there with him until they divorced when I was five, and she took me back to California with her. Dad stayed in Vegas.
He had worked his way up from cleaning bathrooms to co-owning a local casino with two other men. I couldn't picture him involved in shady back-alley dealings (though he was intimidating enough), but both he and my mother seemed to agree that his lifestyle was not the healthiest for me: I had only visited him in Vegas a handful of times before, and never for more than a few days at a time.
And now I was spending the whole summer with him.
I didn't know what to expect, really. I hadn't seen him at all in two years--I could barely remember what his house looked like, and certainly had no idea where it was. I had never met anyone else in Vegas; I had no friends there. I had no knowledge of the city. All I knew of Vegas was my loathing for it.
I hated the heat. I hated the tourists. I hated the cheesy, commercial, melodramatic feel of the city.
It was Las Vegas, for God's sake. It's where you go to gamble, to party, to flock to cheap attractions. It's where young, stupid, lovesick teenagers run away to get married. It's not where you go to live. Not with your dad.
Unless your dad owns a casino, I guess.
I groaned as the buildings blurring past multiplied and grew closer together. Another sign informed us that Vegas was only ten miles away now.
Ten miles. I had ten miles left.
-----
It really was amazing how far out in the middle of nowhere Las Vegas was. I wondered whose bright idea it was to build a city here. Whoever it be, I hated them with a passion for creating this hellhole I was being banished to.
As we turned into a semi-familiar suburb along the outskirts of the city, my heart began to hammer so loudly in my chest that I wondered feverishly if I could use it as an excuse to go on to New York with Mom and Chris. An anxiety attack. She couldn't leave me here if it was causing me medical distress.
I was compiling every excuse I'd ever thought of in my head as the car came to a stop the driveway. Surely if I spouted out all of them one would stick. And even if none of them worked, maybe if I got down on my knees and begged...maybe if I screamed and cried and threw a fit...
I sat stock still in the backseat, silently working myself into a panic, until Chris opened the door for me and I automatically stepped out of the car, thanking him in a monotone. I was shaking as I hugged my mother stiffly, like a robot. I had already picked out a few choice arguments as she pulled away; but then, as I saw her face, all the false words poised and ready on the tip of my tongue evaporated.
She gave me a watery smile and I saw that there were tears in her eyes. Even if I hated it, even if the very thought of the upcoming summer made my stomach churn with dread, I knew as well as she did, deep down, that this was what was best. For her, at least.
She deserved this. She deserved to have a summer with Chris to herself--they both deserved to be together without me tagging along everywhere. She deserved to have a normal marriage without the reminder of her previous failed one hanging around all the time, even if it was just for a month or two. She deserved to be happy.
I would make this sacrifice for her--even if it was one she probably wouldn't have made for me, had our roles been reversed. If growing up with Mom had taught me anything, its that you can't choose your parents, but you can't really help but love them anyway. You love them because they're your parents, and no matter what kind of shit they put you through, you'll always love them, deep down.
I hugged her again and kissed her on the cheek. As I pulled away, she stroked my cheek gently and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.
"Oh, sweetie..." she sighed. "It's only for a little while. I'll be back for you soon. I promise."
I just nodded solemnly as she got back in the car. She rolled the window down and waved at me, smiling sadly and blowing kisses until Chris pulled out of the driveway and headed back down the road and I could no longer see her. I turned and watched the car all the way down the street until it paused briefly at a stop sign; my heart stopped in my chest with sudden hope.
But then they turned right, driving away again, out of sight--leaving me alone in Vegas.
"Almost there," noted Chris cheerfully, as if our arrival was something to be anticipated rather than dreaded. Maybe for him it was. Me--I was being marched to my exile.
Twenty-one miles. I had twenty-one miles left. And then I would be abandoned here in the desert heat to suffer through a whole summer on my own.
My mother twisted around in the passenger seat to flash me a reassuring smile. "Your father will be glad to see you," she said, trying to sound encouraging and mostly failing.
I nodded softly, my gaze lost somewhere out the window. I didn't necessarily agree with her. Mom always said that Dad had trouble showing his feelings, that he really cared about me more than he could ever say. But I didn't really see what difference it made if he loved me or not if he didn't act like he did.
Dad was a big man, tall and muscular with a square jaw perpetually dotted with residual stubble that no amount of meticulous shaving could clear entirely. He looked awkward with his large frame forced into a business suit, but he wore them so continually that I no longer noticed. He had run away to Vegas when he was eighteen, which is where he met my mother; she lived there with him until they divorced when I was five, and she took me back to California with her. Dad stayed in Vegas.
He had worked his way up from cleaning bathrooms to co-owning a local casino with two other men. I couldn't picture him involved in shady back-alley dealings (though he was intimidating enough), but both he and my mother seemed to agree that his lifestyle was not the healthiest for me: I had only visited him in Vegas a handful of times before, and never for more than a few days at a time.
And now I was spending the whole summer with him.
I didn't know what to expect, really. I hadn't seen him at all in two years--I could barely remember what his house looked like, and certainly had no idea where it was. I had never met anyone else in Vegas; I had no friends there. I had no knowledge of the city. All I knew of Vegas was my loathing for it.
I hated the heat. I hated the tourists. I hated the cheesy, commercial, melodramatic feel of the city.
It was Las Vegas, for God's sake. It's where you go to gamble, to party, to flock to cheap attractions. It's where young, stupid, lovesick teenagers run away to get married. It's not where you go to live. Not with your dad.
Unless your dad owns a casino, I guess.
I groaned as the buildings blurring past multiplied and grew closer together. Another sign informed us that Vegas was only ten miles away now.
Ten miles. I had ten miles left.
-----
It really was amazing how far out in the middle of nowhere Las Vegas was. I wondered whose bright idea it was to build a city here. Whoever it be, I hated them with a passion for creating this hellhole I was being banished to.
As we turned into a semi-familiar suburb along the outskirts of the city, my heart began to hammer so loudly in my chest that I wondered feverishly if I could use it as an excuse to go on to New York with Mom and Chris. An anxiety attack. She couldn't leave me here if it was causing me medical distress.
I was compiling every excuse I'd ever thought of in my head as the car came to a stop the driveway. Surely if I spouted out all of them one would stick. And even if none of them worked, maybe if I got down on my knees and begged...maybe if I screamed and cried and threw a fit...
I sat stock still in the backseat, silently working myself into a panic, until Chris opened the door for me and I automatically stepped out of the car, thanking him in a monotone. I was shaking as I hugged my mother stiffly, like a robot. I had already picked out a few choice arguments as she pulled away; but then, as I saw her face, all the false words poised and ready on the tip of my tongue evaporated.
She gave me a watery smile and I saw that there were tears in her eyes. Even if I hated it, even if the very thought of the upcoming summer made my stomach churn with dread, I knew as well as she did, deep down, that this was what was best. For her, at least.
She deserved this. She deserved to have a summer with Chris to herself--they both deserved to be together without me tagging along everywhere. She deserved to have a normal marriage without the reminder of her previous failed one hanging around all the time, even if it was just for a month or two. She deserved to be happy.
I would make this sacrifice for her--even if it was one she probably wouldn't have made for me, had our roles been reversed. If growing up with Mom had taught me anything, its that you can't choose your parents, but you can't really help but love them anyway. You love them because they're your parents, and no matter what kind of shit they put you through, you'll always love them, deep down.
I hugged her again and kissed her on the cheek. As I pulled away, she stroked my cheek gently and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.
"Oh, sweetie..." she sighed. "It's only for a little while. I'll be back for you soon. I promise."
I just nodded solemnly as she got back in the car. She rolled the window down and waved at me, smiling sadly and blowing kisses until Chris pulled out of the driveway and headed back down the road and I could no longer see her. I turned and watched the car all the way down the street until it paused briefly at a stop sign; my heart stopped in my chest with sudden hope.
But then they turned right, driving away again, out of sight--leaving me alone in Vegas.