Crazy Love by Amir Abrams Page B

wisely.”
    â€œBut, I was picking my battles. You said yourself that’s what I should be doing. I was ignoring her so I wouldn’t say anything disrespectful to her. So in actuality I was being respectful.”
    â€œKamiyah, c’mon. Stop this already. You know like I do, every time you and your mother get into a disagreement and things don’t go your way, you give her the cold-shoulder treatment.”
    â€œWell, she does it to me .”
    â€œIt still doesn’t make it right.”
    I force myself not to roll my eyes at him. “She even does it to you .”
    â€œAnd that still doesn’t make it right,” he repeats, making a left onto JFK Parkway. Although I have an idea where we’re headed, I decide to ask anyway.
    â€œWe’re not going home?”
    â€œNo. We’re stopping at the mall. Maybe an incentive will help motivate you.”
    I giggle. “Shopping always motivates me, Daddy.”
    â€œYeah, well let’s hope it also inspires you enough to go home and apologize to your mother.”
    â€œFine,” I say, turning my head and looking out the window. Okay, why I always gotta be the one to apologize to her is ridiculous. So what if she’s the parent. It still doesn’t make it right—or her right—all the time. Sometimes she’s dead wrong, like now. Putting me on punishment for two weeks when I didn’t really do anything. I reluctantly nod my head, looking back at him. “I’ll apologize to her.”
    â€œGood. But you’re not taking these things with you to your mother’s house. You keep ’em in your room at mine until things smooth over between you and her. Deal?”
    â€œOkay, deal.”
    â€œGood. Now, tell me. How was your day?”
    I gladly give him the rundown, relieved to be changing the subject. “Oh, and the French club is having their annual trip to Paris during the spring break, but the permission slips have to be in soon. Do you think I’ll be able to go? It’s mostly for the French club, but they also extend it to honor students as well.”
    He takes his eyes off the road, glancing over at me. “I don’t see why not. Let me talk it over with your mother first.”
    â€œOhmygod, Daddy, do you really have to ask her?”
    â€œYes, I do. She’s your mother. And a trip to France is a major thing. She needs to be okay with you going, too.”
    I sigh. “Oh well. There goes that dream,” I say sarcastically. “She’s gonna say no. And you know it.”
    He sighs, eyeing me. “Why can’t you try being a little nicer and a whole lot more respectful to your mother, instead of always trying to go against her? The two of you always fighting isn’t good. I can’t understand it.”
    I poke my lips out. “Daddy, it’s her,” I whine. “But you don’t want to believe it. Even you couldn’t stand living with her.”
    He shoots me a look, then looks back at the road. He knows what I’ve said is true, even if he won’t admit it. He forgets I used to hear how they would argue. Well, I don’t know if you can really call it arguing, since most of the time she was the one doing all the talking.
    â€œListen,” he says, slicing into my thoughts. “Regardless of my reasoning why I decided to move out, your mother and I still love each other very much. And we both love you. Don’t ever forget that.”
    I cross my arms tightly over my chest. “Well, I know you love me.” But there is no love lost between me and the Witch. She hates me just as much as I hate her. Of course I keep this to myself. Daddy will only side with her anyway, so what’s the point. He cuts his eyes over at me, shaking his head. “Okay, well . . . maybe she does love me . . .” But I still think she hates me more.
    Daddy merges onto Route 24 going east. We drive a few minutes with just the