She doesn’t think he can hear it, but he can. Jennifer paces around the balcony on the phone; to whom, he doesn’t know. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do anymore,” she rants, waving her hand around. Casey watches smoke flutter erratically from her cigarette. He has headphones in, but he’s already turned the music off so he can listen in while pretending to do homework at the kitchen table. “This kid is driving me up the God damn wall. I had to go pick him up early today because he got in trouble again. It’s like he doesn’t even care how hard this is for me.”

After a short pause, she goes on. “He’s thirteen. He’s plenty old enough to know better.”

Another pause. Casey watches Jennifer’s silhouette go from frantic pacing to slumped over on the patio chair. She tosses her cigarette over the rail into the parking lot below, then rests her head in her hand. “It doesn’t matter what I say to him, he doesn’t listen. It’s like he’s happy making my life a living hell. It’s not like I don’t take care of him, you know. I’m doing the best I can, and this is what I get. He screamed at me the whole way home.”

Is she doing the best she can?

Is leaving him alone for days on end the best she can do?

Is yelling at him all the time the best she can do?

Does she plan to mention that she screamed at him too?

Called him a useless brat?

Told him he ruined her life?

His jaw tenses. There’s a part of him wishing he could jump in and clear his name, but his curiosity gets the better of him and keeps him in place -- keeps him listening. Even if it hurts, he wants to know everything she has to say about him.

“Yeah, well, no one said it was gonna be easy, right? Still can’t believe I got three of the little monsters running around.” A voice comes through muffled after Jennifer clicks the speaker on. Casey puts it together that it’s his Aunt Barbie.

“Well, my one monster is worse than all three of yours combined.”

“Oh, come on… he’s a kid, kids do stupid stuff. Remember how much trouble we used to get into? You just need to get you some help around there, Jenn. I keep telling you to come down here.”

“You know I can’t do that. Mom and I will kill each other if we live that close. The only person willing to stick around longer than a month went n’ died on me, so… I dunno.”

Casey never met his dad, yet his stomach churns every time Jennifer mentions him.

“Jenn, think about all the things you’re worrying about. Besides Casey. You’re worried about money, you’re worried about your living situation -- I mean, how long have you been staying in a hotel?”

“Get to the point, Barb.”

“My point is, you’re worried about the uncertainty in your life, well so is he. He’s. A. Kid. He doesn’t know what’s going on any more than you do. He’s as scared as you are, and that makes people act out sometimes. He could probably use some reassurance from you. He needs you, Jenn.”

“When you say that, it makes me sound like the sh*ttiest parent on Earth.” Jennifer scoffs a laugh, her voice cracking in a way Casey’s never heard before. He’s seen her yell. He’s seen her scream at the top of her lungs, and throw things, but he’s never seen her cry. “You act like I’m not even trying to make things work.”

“Okay, financially, you are, but when’s the last time you sat down and talked with him? When’s the last time you told him about anything going on? Hell, when’s the last time you hung out with him just to watch TV or something?”

Jennifer sighs. Casey purses his lips together, eyebrows furrowed. Overhearing the question on the phone forces him to consider it too. He doesn’t remember the last time he sat down with his mother for anything other than an awkwardly quiet dinner, or a scolding for acting up in school. He can’t remember the last time he just talked to her, hung out with her, went somewhere with her that wasn’t stressful. He can’t fathom them sitting together casually, doing something as normal as watching TV.

“It’s just hard…”

“Parents gotta be willing to forgive too, Jenn.”

“I know… I’m gonna go. Call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Keep your head up.”

“I know.”

Casey picks up his pencil again and goes back to his homework, the screen door sliding open.

“You need any help?” She asks, coming up to the table.

Casey looks up at her and plucks his headphone out of one ear, playing dumb.

“You need help with your homework?” Jennifer repeats.

His eyes narrow. That she can face him, and ask him that question, after badmouthing him on the phone unnerves him. “No.”

“Well, are you hungry or anything?”

“Not really.” Casey goes back to focusing on his book.

“Okay…” Jennifer sighs, folding her arms. “Well, I was thinking when you’re done, we could do something -- watch TV or something.”

Casey still doesn’t budge. He doesn’t think Aunt Barbie knows exactly what her suggestion entails. Knowing Jennifer, she could turn watching TV into a stressful event, and Casey wants no part in it. He can already imagine the arguments over what they should watch, or the inevitable moment Jennifer gets called away from home, just when they’re starting to actually have a good time. He shakes his head. “I don’t really want to.”

“Casey…” Jennifer pleads. Her voice cracks again, but when he looks at her, her face is like stone. He doesn’t know why it pangs his chest to see tears in her eyes, since it’s not like she’s ever cared about his. When he cries in front of her, he’s told to suck it up, but he can’t bring himself to tell her the same. So he says nothing, and goes back to what he’s doing so he doesn’t have to see it.

“You know I’m trying my best for you, don’t you? For us?”

“Sure,” Casey says flatly.

“I wanna do what’s best for you too, but you have to help me out a little.”

He shakes his head. Casey doesn’t think she really cares. She’s going down Aunt Barbie’s list, grasping at strings, but he’s not convinced she’s doing it for him. She’s doing it so Aunt Barbie doesn’t view her as a terrible mother.

Jennifer scoffs, throwing her hand out. “Just tell me what you want, Casey, I’m really trying here.”

“Right now, I wanna finish my homework so I don’t get in trouble again tomorrow. We don’t have to hang out, it’s okay.”

“Jesus Christ…” Jennifer walks away from the table, rubbing her face with the palm of her hand. “Jesus Christ, Casey, I don’t know why you have to make things so hard for me. You think that’s funny or something?”

Casey doesn’t look up. “I’m making it easy for you. You can go do whatever you want, and I’ll be right here. Turn the TV on if you really want to.”

“Fine.” Jennifer gives. “You know what? Fine. You stay right there.”

“I will.”

“You do that, and when you change your mind, I’ll treat you the same way you just treated me.”

Casey rolls his eyes, but doesn’t answer. Instead, he starts to pack up his stuff so he can hide out in the bathroom where she can’t get to him.

“I really am trying for you, you know. I’m REALLY trying.”

Casey turns his back to her, shaking his head. “Well stop it, I don’t want you to.”