Chapter 24

                                    

                                          
The next morning, Harry woke up to a sort of atmospheric stigma. Events from the previous day finally fathomed through his mind and he was in shock at the purple bruises on his knuckles and arms. However, he was sore as well considering Axel was well built and got a few good punches in.
                          
Nonetheless, he got ready slowly and tried his best to avoid his mom. But it was too late because as he walked down he saw her sitting at the table with the "I'm going to lecture you" look.
                          
"You're not going to let me leave are you?" He assumed, gripping his backpack strap tighter.
                          
Lydia raised her brow then looked at the seat across from her. Harry sat down.
                          
"Why?" She asked. He knew what she was talking about. Surprisingly she was clam.
                          
"Why what?" Harry mumbled, fiddling with his fingers on the table. 
                          
"You and Axel... why?" 
                          
"I can't tell you that," he looked down, crossing his hands.
                          
"And why not?" Her voice was very stern. Intimidating. She scared him way more than his father ever could because she was there to question his moral values while his father was merely concerned with external things.
                          
Mark wasn't a horrible father at all, Harry knew that. When it came to the mans expectations, there were very few: being committed to soccer and being stable. Harry was neither of those things. 
                          
"Because you'll think I'm a horrible person. They might sound silly. After all, Axel is your favorite-" he mumbled but was cut off.
                          
"Now don't say that. I don't care what you think, I love you two equally. Now you need to tell me what made you do that and why. I don't care if it's stupid or wrong. Just tell me, please," she told him gently. She was always so patient with him. Always.
                          
"I might be late to school-"
                          
"I don't care. Now... just talk," she urged quietly. Lydia then crossed her arms and sat back.
                          
Harry gulped. Where would he even start? The thing he feared most is that his mom would look at him differently. What was the good thing though was that maybe she'd explain everything to his father as well. She was good at talking with him. After all she married him.
                          
"Um, well he," he rubbed his temple before shaking his head, "... I don't know, mom, I can't explain it," he was becoming irritated.
                          
"Just plain and simple, lay it down. I wanna know," she shrugged.
                          
"You and dad always thought he was this great person. But really, he was just an asshole. When we were little it was alright but once he moved here and high school came, he changed. We both did. He became popular with everyone, started gloating about everything. He made me feel inferior to him especially in soccer. He'd purposely ditch me after games to go party with his friends. He'd taunt me and make me feel like I wasn't cool or I was lame because I listened to music that he didn't listen to. There wasn't one girlfriend I had that he didn't sleep with-"
                          
"Oh my god, did Zulema-" her eyes widened.
                          
"No. Of course not, she isn't like that. He kept trying and trying though until I just... snapped I guess," he sighed.
                          
Lydia looked at him for several seconds without saying anything. She seemed to be processing his words.
                          
"Okay, then. Well I'm not going to yell at you because I think you're right. I'm really sorry... that you feel that way about your brother. You just gotta realize that some people are less mature than others."