Responsible by Darlene Ryan Read Free Book Online

said.
    Charlie’s car was squeezed in at the end of a row of parked cars, half on the grass and half on the pavement. I figured that meant our car wasn’t running again. We drove home without talking. Dad watched the road and I looked out the side window.
    Back at the trailer I was so tired it was all I could do not to fall over. I peeled off my jeans and got into bed. Dad came in and handed me a couple of pills and a glass of water. “Take them,” he said.
    â€œWhere did you get those?” I asked. My mouth felt fuzzy.
    â€œThe nurse gave them to me to get you through until I can get that prescription filled.”
    â€œI don’t need them.”
    â€œTake them.”
    â€œI don’t want them.”
    â€œJust take the goddamn pills,” Dad snapped. “For once do what’s right for you instead of trying to figure out how you can screw with me.”
    I swallowed the capsules and drank half the glass of water.
    â€œI’m going to get some food and get that prescription filled,” Dad said. “Charlie is gonna come over until I get back.”
    â€œI don’t need a babysitter,” I protested. It was hard to keep my eyes open.
    â€œIf those guys come looking for you, I want someone here who can break some heads,” Dad said. I wasn’t awake enough to argue anymore.

Chapter Ten
    When I woke up it was light outside. Everything hurt. My ribs, my face, my teeth, even my hair. But it was a different kind of pain—the sharpness was gone. I didn’t know if that meant I was healing or that the pills were still floating around in my bloodstream.
    It probably took me five minutes just to get out of bed, but I did it. I managed to pull on a pair of sweatpants that looked fairly clean. I had to hold on to the wall on the way downthe hallway, but I made it out to the front room of the trailer.
    Dad was leaning on the counter by the sink, nursing a cup of coffee. There were dark circles under his eyes, his hair was standing up and he had on the same clothes as the day before. He stretched as though he was trying to work out a kink in his back. I managed to make it across the floor to the table without anything to hold on to. I dropped into a chair. I was breathing harder than if I’d just run all the way around the trailer park.
    â€œHey,” Dad said, “how do you feel?”
    â€œOkay,” I muttered.
    â€œYou look like crap.”
    â€œGee, Dad, you sure know how to make a guy feel better,” I said.
    Dad came over to the table and tipped my head back so he could look at my eye. “Some of the red is gone.”
    â€œSee, I told you it was okay.”
    â€œYou still have to go back and have it checked. Don’t even think about not doing that.”
    I didn’t say anything.
    Dad crossed over to the fridge. “What do you want to eat?” he asked.
    â€œWhat is there?” I said. “Let me guess. Cornflakes or puffed wheat.”
    Dad pressed his lips together, looked away from me for a moment and then back. “I got stuff for pancakes,” he said, “and syrup—the real thing, not the stuff that’s just all sugar and colored water.”
    â€œWait. You’re going to make me pancakes?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œI guess I should get the crap beaten out of me more often. I can’t remember the last time you ever made anything for me except maybe a can of beans.”
    â€œIt’s not funny,” he said, pulling things from the fridge. “Those punks could have killed you.”
    â€œYeah, well, they didn’t. You always said I had a hard head. I guess you were right about that.” My head felt like there was a pinball game going on inside it.
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell someone?” Dad said.
    â€œWho?” I snapped. “Mr. What-does-the-school-guidebook-say Harris? The cops? Right. Like they would have done anything. You, Dad? You were too busy being the