What a Boy Needs Read Online Free Page A

keeps getting shaken , dropped , kicked , and finally I can ' t stop myself from exploding. After our last run-in , then Pris , walking around all night ... I can ' t handle any of it anymore and I need to fight back.
    " Jesus ! Y ou ' re like a broken record! Can ' t you come up with anything new? I know I ' m a loser , you hate me , I ' ll never be anything. If you don ' t have anything new to throw into the ring , I ' d like to go to my room now. " I manage to take a few steps away from him.
    His oversized face turns red. I see his jaw tighten. I ' ve never , ever spoken to him like that.
    I want to do it again.
    " You little punk. " For the first time in my life , his hand raises toward me. I brace myself for the blow , sort of glad it finally came to this.
    Mom steps around the corner. " Mike ... Don ' t , okay? Let ' s just go to the room and calm down. " Her voice is shaking and I wonder if this will be the one thing to finally make her stand up to him. To finally worry about me.
    " Did you hear the way he spoke to me? Of course you did. You always take his side. He ' s your little prize , isn ' t he? From when you thought you ' d found something better , but it turned out I ' m the only one who would put up with you."
    Mom f l inches at his words , her hand going to her face. I have no idea what he ' s talking about , but there ' s no way I ' ll let him speak to her that way.
    " Leave her out of this. It ' s between you and me. " An angered heat burns through me , threatening to turn me to ash , but I stand my ground. " You have something to say to me? Say it. "
    He suddenly laughs. It ' s a pissed- off laugh that makes my fists beg to hit him.
    " Are you a big man now? About to graduate high school and you think you ' re a man? "
    " Mike , no— "
    He cuts her off. " Are you man enough to know your mom ' s a slut? How s he screwed another man and got stuck with you? That I ' ve been raising her little bastard kid for eighteen years because your real daddy didn ' t want you , either? "
    I can ' t breathe. Each of his words are a fist , slamming into me. A foot kicking me.
    Mom starts crying , hiding her face in her hands.
    Dad? No , Mike is smiling.
    I can ' t feel anything.
    He ' s not my dad?
    " That ' s right , kid. Your mom acted like a whore and then— "
    His words are cut off when my fist rams into his face. I feel the bones crack , but I can ' t stop myself. I swing at him again . T his time , he ' s ready for it. He knocks my hand away and shoves me into the wall. My hand slams against it. Pain shoots through my head , my knuckles , but it ' s nothing compared to the way my heart has been cut open.
    Mom jumps between us , screaming , before he can hit me again. Black makeup trails down her face with her tears. " Please , stop! Don ' t fight. "
    Mike looks over her at me. He ' s got a busted lip , but he smiles regardless.
    " You ' re done for , kid. "
    Mom tries to stop him as he pulls out his cell phone and dials. I don ' t try to run. Probably couldn ' t move even if I wanted to. I slide down to the floor.
    He ' s not even my dad.
    And she still let him treat me this way.
    ***
    The police ask me a million times what happened. Each time I admit to taking the first swing. What ' s the point in fighting it? They bring me to the hospital first. My hand is broken. Obviously punching two people in one night didn ' t agree with me.
    Mom comes to the hospital , but I tell them I don ' t want her in the room and since I ' m eighteen , they can ' t do anything about it. The police supervision is already enough of a downer.
    She let someone who doesn ' t share my blood make my life hell.
    I can ' t get over that.
    Next I'm transferred to the police station. More supervision , like I'm some kind of criminal. I ' m here for a few hours , telling them the same thing over and over . Yep , I hit him first. Yep , he defended himself.
    A little while later , they tell me he ' s not pressing charges. I ' m his son , after all.