Alright, new people to thank here :D First of all, WolfieGirl1997. Thanks a lot for taking the time to vote and comment for my story! Second, 14CaraBane. Thank you too for the votes and the comment and for following me! I said that I updated in a regular schedule and here I am true to my word xD Third, Chezbrgr. Thanks for the votes, comments, and following me, as well! And I told you too that I updated regularly and once again here I am xD Let's hope that like you said, this story get's lots of more reads :3

You three are all going to get your individual dedications, I have enough chapter's left to do that, but this chapter is dedicated to KortnieKatastrophe because like I said in my past chapter she always votes for every new chapter that comes out ^^

There are about.... four more chapters left, or something along those lines. Don't worry, they're four chapters of about 13 pages in wattpad each. So you still have a lot to read before the story actually ends. I will give you more details about what will happen when I finish this book later.

Please let me know what you think about this chapter!

I hope you enjoy,

-> Desyre

Oliver

                I paid the taxi and got out of the car like it was on fire. I ran into my house ignoring my parents, and just went right into my room. I locked the door behind me and sat down on the bench in front of the piano. I just hit the keys with all my force, and the horrible sound they made resounded through the room. I did that about five or six times, before I finally was calm enough to actually play. I sighed and put my elbows on the piano, holding my head in my hands. Why? Why was this happening now? Why did it happen at all? Everything had been just perfect, right until today. Why did Kevin have to butt in? Why did he have to kiss him?

                I sighed and got off the bench, no longer feeling like playing. I stood in my room for a few seconds, looking around, wondering what the fuck I was going to do. Finally I sat myself back on the bench and started to just string together the saddest and darkest chords I could think about. Chords on any instrument can be classified into happy and sad if you’re feeling simplistic. They are after all the ones that make the mood of a song. At some point I felt my eyes starting to burn and knew I had begun crying. I played for a long time, just letting myself express the sadness inside of me through my music not really caring what I was playing. Just as long as I played and it reflected what I had inside me, it was alright.

                By the time I cried myself dry and had a searing headache, it had been dark for hours. I undressed and put on a pair of shorts, before I went to my bed. I got under the covers and hid there. I felt my phone vibrate and before I could think better about it I opened it and read that I had at least fifty messages, from Em, Dust, Ennie, and Drew. I dreaded what I would find. They would probably tell me I was an asshole for what I did to Kev and for reacting the way I did to what happened. They would be judgmental, I just knew it. They were Sal’s and Kevin’s friends, not mine. I opened one from Em expecting to find a long list of profanities. I was surprised at what I found.

“Thank you for punching Kev. I had been wanting to do that for a long time now. It was for all the wrong reasons, mind you, but it was still satisfying to hear the doctors say his nose was almost broken.”

                I stared at the screen not understanding. I opened another text. This one was from Dust.

“Are you alright, man? I saw Kevin and thought that you had to be really pissed to actually hit him hard enough to do that to his nose. I would’ve beat the crap out of him if it was me in the situation, you have a lot of self-control.”

                I opened a text from Ennie this time.

“ollie? r u dere? it ws rly a msndrstndin, i swear! >.< wat u saw ws totally an accidnt :/”

                It took me a while to decipher what the text said. It was always the same with Ennie’s texts. It always took me some time to understand them. Drew’s, was next.

“I understand how you reacted but I promise you it wasn’t what it looked like, it was a total accident! >.< I was there, I saw it all! 0.0 You see after you left the stage…”

“He tripped and fell into the amps, man! And then he went right through to the side of the stage! I thought he was dead or something when we first got to him! Then…”

“We had to carry him into the backstage, and I can assure you that even if he looks thin he weighs a fucking ton! Did you know that? I think your boyfriend is half whale, with how much he weighs it sure is possible. So anyway we brought him back into the backstage and…”

“we wer rly scard cuz he wldn’t wake up o.o i turnd 2 tell my bby 2 call an ambulance but he ws lookn prtty pale (he chicknshit bout accidents -.-‘) so I did it. n thn we waitd cuz…”

“He was unconscious for a long time and I could actually feel myself starting to panic >.< I have to admit I’m a total coward with these things :$ While we waited Kevin decide to check how much actual damage was done and…”

“Kevin was actually looking at his sheen when he woke up. He hit it pretty hard, and it was swelling and turning purple and shit. And dude, I thought he had broken it or something. Anyways…”

“We were all fighting talking about what to do, call off the show or go on with it. I said that we had to call it off, with you disappearing and with Sal in the state he was in we would be lucky if he hadn’t broken something. Kev yelled at us, saying that Sal was waking up…”

“And, dude, it was like something from a movie. Kevin turned back to look at Sal, not knowing Sal had been staring to sit up, and their lips just met. It was really awkward, man. It was like I was watching it in slow motion or something. But…”

“Their lips just happened to meet, Ollie, I swear they weren’t kissing or something, or I can tell you right now that I would’ve been bitching at Sal, no matter if he was on death’s doorstep or whatever. So…”

“It was all a misunderstanding. Though, nice work on Kevin, man, have you ever considered taking up boxing?”

                At that point I had to stop reading to go dump the few things I’d eaten into the toilet. I stayed there, retching and dry heaving for a long time, until there was only bile. I pressed my eyes closed as the urge to puke rose again. It had all been a misunderstanding. It had been an accident. I had done damage to Kevin’s nose for nothing. God. I retched into the toilet again, and again. I finally was able to control my body again, and got up. I went to the sink to wash my face and then washed my teeth, like a million times. I swallowed and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like I had been run over by a truck. I had dark bags under my eyes, and the aforementioned were puffy and red rimmed. My face looked drawn and my skin looked pale and dry, like I was coming down with something. With stupidity maybe. I leaned closer and pressed my forehead against the glass, closing my eyes. How did this become so complicated? Moreover, how was I going to fix this?

                I sighed and removed myself from the bathroom slowly, not wanting to lose the newly attained control over my stomach. There was a knock on the door and I went to open it, wanting to just go to sleep. I felt so tired suddenly, like just standing was a heavy work out. I opened it and my dad looked like he was out of breath. He opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to really look at me and his face creased with worry.

“Are you alright, son?” He asked with a worried tone.

                I nodded slowly, not really feeling alright but not wanting to discuss it right now.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, eyeing me carefully.

                I sighed and pulled up a hand to my face. I pressed my hand to my temple trying to get the headache to go away. I nodded again and my dad looked at me warily.

“We already know what happened, you don’t have to worry,” he said.

                I must’ve looked pretty confused because he hurried to explain.

“About Sal, we already know.”

                I felt my face drain of color and my dad got closer to me, as if fearing I might pass out.

“But like I said it’s alright, Ash and Mina just called, they said that Sal has to stay in the hospital for a night because he has a mild concussion but otherwise is perfectly fine,” my dad said smiling.

                Oh God. I gaged and ran to the bathroom, dumping nothing but bile into the toilet again and again. I laid my head on the seat of the toilet and just stayed there for a few seconds.

“Ollie?” My dad asked coming into the bathroom. “Are you…” But his question trailed off when he saw the exact state I was in.

                He saw the toilet and its contents, and then saw me in the light of the bathroom. I must’ve looked healthy as a horse. I stayed on the toilet seat with my eyes closed. I was so tired, my head ached like I had hit it against a wall or something, and I was so thirsty I could’ve drunk an ocean. I went to try to stand up but when I did, suddenly, the world tilted and I felt myself falling. Let’s add lightheadedness to the upper list. My dad caught me before I could fall and directed me to my bed. He laid me on the bed and I went without complain, wanting nothing more than to sleep for centuries.

“ALLY!” My dad yelled suddenly, and everything in my body protested.

                I groaned feeling the headache reach its peak and turned to hide under the covers.

“Shut up,” I said irritably, didn’t he see that I wanted to sleep?

                My dad got up and went to the door of my bedroom.

“ALLY! I NEED YOU HERE RIGHT NOW!” My dad yelled again and I felt the urge to just strangle him.

                What part of shut up didn’t he understand, the shut or the up?

“What are you yelling for?” My mom hissed at my dad when she got to the top of the stairs.

                They were doing a pretty good job of being silent. Really, they were just great at it. They could even be ninjas someday. Ugh. Sal’s sarcasm was rubbing off on me. Oh God. Sal. I felt myself, gag and ran back to the bathroom. I was really considering just sleeping here.

“Ollie?” My mom asked from the door of my bedroom and I could hear her steps.

                She would walk into the bathroom and freak out in five, four, three, two, one…

“Oh my God!” My mom yelled.

                God. Stop yelling for fuck’s sake. I groaned the pressed my eyes closed tighter. My head was swimming and in pain at the same time, and I wanted to sleep so badly, I might just do it right here.

“What happened to him?” My mom asked.

                At least she was talking now, not yelling.

“I don’t know, when he opened the door he looked more or less alright,” my dad said, and he sounded haunted. “I told him that Sal was staying at the hospital but that he was ok and he ran to the bathroom. When I came in he looked like this, maybe a little better.”

                I groaned. Sal. I retched into the toilet for what had to be the hundredth time. My stomach hurt from all the retching. Could it please just stop?

“Ollie, my love, how do you feel? What hurts?” My mom said softly, and I could’ve kissed her.

“Splitting headache, sleepy, thirsty, and my head is swimming.”

                My mom didn’t say anything, but she pressed her hand to my forehead and my neck.

“His skin is really dry,” my mom said to herself. “Get me a lot of water,” she said then turning to my dad.

                I heard steps as my dad left to do what my mom asked for.

“Ollie, honey, what happened?” She asked softly.

                Honey. My Love. She had to be really worried, she never called me that.

“What happened today? Why did you come here? Weren’t you staying at Dustin’s?” She went on.

                I groaned not really wanting to explain.

“Is it because something happened with…?” My mom said stopping herself just before saying his name.

                I groaned again and gaged. Sal. I retched into the toilet again, and groaned once more at the bitterness in my dry mouth. I was really too thirsty.

“Ollie?” My mom asked, her hand caressing my hair, and somehow that helped me take a deep breath and calm down.

                I had to talk. I had to explain. Or they’d think I was crazy or something. Well, more than I normally was.

“Sal kissed Kevin,” I managed to get out, and felt proud of myself for not puking.

“Who?” My mom asked confused.

“The new guitarist, Kevin,” I croaked.

“Oh, the arrogant asshole?” My mom asked.

                I had to chuckle at that. Mom calling Kevin an arrogant asshole. I guess it was common knowledge.

“I punched him,” I said sighing.

“You punched Sal?” My mom asked and she sounded surprised.

“No, Kevin,” And I felt another sigh push out of me. I was feeling so heavy, like my body weighed a ton. I was so tired. Even talking exhausted me.

“Oh… Did you get him good?” My mom asked softly.

“Almost broke his nose,” I admitted feeling shitty. I had punched him for nothing.

“That’s my son,” my mom said and I could hear the smile in her tone.

                I chuckled without any humor. If only she knew.

“It was a misunderstanding,” I said a heavy breath pushing out of me.

“What?” My mom asked clearly not understanding.

“It was an accident. They weren’t kissing, they just bumped lips, by accident,” I said and guilt added itself to all the shit from before. Nice. I thought things couldn’t get worse but it looked like I was wrong.

“Oh God.”

                I gagged again and dumped bile into the toilet once more. Yeah, I feel the same way mom.

“How did Sal fall off the stage then?” My mom asked confused.

                Oh God. Sal. I only dry heaved this time, having just dumped what little bile I had into the toilet. I heard steps again and deduced it was my father who came back with water. Just the thought made my mouth that much drier. My dad came into the bathroom looking decidedly a little green and handed my mom one of the huge bottles of water he had in his arms. My mom started taking off the lid slowly, and I grabbed the bottle from her hands. I rolled off the lid quickly and began drinking water like I had been stuck for a month in the Sahara. When I had finished the whole bottle I laid my head back down on the toilet, already feeling a little better but still thirsty.

“Come on, let’s get you on the bed,” my mom said, pulling me up by the arm.

                I got up and my head swam again. My mom stood there holding on to me until I felt steady enough to walk. We made our way slowly to the bed and my mom laid me there. She sat on the edge of the bed and caressed my hair.

“I’m going to leave the water here by your bed, if you get thirsty just drink it but don’t drink too much, too fast or you might get sick again,” she said softly, still running her hand through my hair.

“Sleep for now, Ollie, tomorrow or the day after it, you’ll deal with all this, but just not right now, alright?” She asked.

                I groaned, thinking about all that had happened today.

“I said tomorrow,” my mom said chuckling.

                She leaned down and kissed my head, and I felt myself take a deep breath. I had to sleep right now. I didn’t know what the matter with me was, but I needed to rest. I nodded and turned, cuddling under the covers. My mom whispered something to my dad, and then I heard their steps as they left my room. I sighed again and let the tiredness take over my body. I was asleep in seconds. I remember waking up a lot and drinking more water but almost immediately I went right back to sleep. I woke up again and thankfully the head-splitting headache was gone. I still felt very tired and thirsty, and a little lightheaded, but at least the headache was gone.

                I grabbed another of the huge bottles of water realizing I’d downed two more during the night. I drank some more water before getting up and making my way slowly to the bathroom. Thankfully, at some point last night, my mom seemed to flush the toilet. Puke had to be between the top best things to see when you just woke up. I showered washing the remnants of last night off of my skin and when I stepped back out, I felt a lot better. Still depressed and feeling very stupid, but better. I pulled on a pair of sweats and went right back into my bed, where I fell asleep again.

                I jolted awake when I felt something beside me. I turned and there looking taken aback was my mom. She blinked a few times before giving me an apologetic smile.

“Sorry I woke you up,” she said softly.

                She wound her hand into my hair, running her fingers through the now dry strands. I had to admit that I was liking this new habit of hers.

“Don’t worry. What time is it? How long have I slept?” I asked looking around.

“It’s Monday evening. It’s alright don’t worry about it,” she said when I turned to look at her with what had to be an outraged look. “I called the school today and said that you wouldn’t be coming in this whole week. I told them that you had a fever and were coming down with something, though you were just dehydrated.”

                That woke up my brain. A whole week free?

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” she said chuckling. “I thought that you might need it. After all it’s only a few days until the anniversary.”

                She grew serious when she told me that and I sighed understanding what she meant by needing a whole week off. Maybe she would’ve asked for two or three days under normal circumstances but seeing as I had managed to get dehydrated, a whole week was the best option. She passed me a bottle of water and I drank it all before passing it back to her.

“Do you have anything planned?” She asked.

                I laid back down on the bed and thought about that for a minute. Well, I had thought about taking a day off to make the trip to the city and spend a few hours with them, and then come right back. But seeing as I had free days to spare I could make some visits.

“I could take three days. Make the trip to the city the first day, spend the second day visiting, and return the third day,” I said.

                My mom thought about that in silence for a few moments.

“Alright, but you won’t go alone,” she said.

                I frowned at her, then they were coming with me?

“I can’t go with you, I’m on call this whole week because we have two girls on maternity leave and one guy on sick leave, and your dad can’t go either,” she said raising an eyebrow at me.

                What? Then with whom would I go? Oh.

“Sal,” I said and my mom smiled.

“That’s right, I want you to go with Sal, otherwise you make the trip up and then back the same day.”

“But… how am I going to go with Sal?” I asked frowning even more. “I already told you what happened.”

“I know,” my mom said smiling. “That’s why I want you go to up there together.”

                I stared at her like she was stupid.

“You’re not making sense,” I said simply.

“Doesn’t matter, either you go with Sal or you just take one day and have to go to school, you decide,” she said getting up and leaving my room

                I stared with confusion after her and finally sat up. She wanted me to go up there with Sal. How was that going to happen? I groaned and got up going to my closet and putting on a shirt. This was all seriously too much for me right now. I went out of my room and down the stairs, feeling steadier on my feet. I entered the kitchen and surprisingly enough, dad was the one cooking. I stood there for a few seconds staring at him. He looked up, saw me standing there and chuckled.

“Your mother let me cook for today, because I make a better Lasagna than she does. You know, it wouldn’t do you any harm to learn how to cook,” dad said raising an eyebrow at me.

                I shrugged and sat on the dining table. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to learn how to cook, I was just no good at it. I was a prodigy with music but an idiot with cooking. Things had to be balanced out after all. I sat there looking at my dad move around the kitchen, checking the oven, and cooking things on the stove. Mom was sitting across from me doing the crossword of today’s newspaper. A few minutes later dad announced that dinner was ready and mom rose to place the table. It was interesting that I didn’t move a single inch from where I was sitting. Dad placed a huge portion of lasagna on my plate and I had to admit that it smelled mighty delicious. After everyone was sitting we dug in.

                I ate as much as I could but still ate less than half of what they served me. After I was done I offered to do the dishes, thinking that I hadn’t gotten up from my bed in about two days. My parents let me and told me that they were going to go to bed early today, and that when I was done I should try to sleep some more. I stayed for a long time in the kitchen, washing the dishes slowly. My mind was about a million miles away, wondering how I was going to fix things with Sal. I also thought about what I was doing around this same time ten years ago. My mind slowly filled with memories and for the first time, I welcomed them. I wanted to remember the good things about my parents, the happy times we spent together. I was sick of always remembering the bad things and welcomed the good things gladly.

                I finished washing the dishes and made my way slowly up to my room. Once in there I made a beeline for the bench of my piano. I sat there for a while staring at the keys until finally I poised my hands over them and started playing. I wasn’t composing I was just stringing chords together, but I felt like I knew what I was playing. It was a slow song, not necessarily happy but not sad either. I kept on playing, the feeling that I had heard this before still in my mind. Then I remembered. It had been years ago, right before my parents died. I was surprised I even remembered the melody after the long time that had passed since.

                It had been a song I was composing, not a sonnet, or movement or whatever, it was a normal 6 to 5 minute song. It wasn’t even finished yet when my mom heard it and asked me why I was composing something so sad. And I told her that it wasn’t part of a whole composition or anything. I told her it was just a normal song. She told me that was alright but that that didn’t answer her question. I told her it wasn’t a sad song, it was just not happy. Her brows furrowed and she stared at me for a few seconds before she showed me one of her sunny smiles. She said that there wasn’t many people in the world who could see the difference between sad and not happy. She leaned down and kissed my forehead before telling me it was time to go to sleep.

                I never got to finish the song and now it was back in my mind and buzzing around. I grabbed some sheets of stave paper and started writing down the melody. I wrote it down, not minding that it still had no end and left it there. I would work on it, see where it lead me. I started playing it again, advancing note by note, and slowly making my way through the song. It was normally a scorching process, something lightning-quick that left you breathless. I did the opposite with this song, I thought long and hard about what note to put where. Instead of getting frustrated when I couldn’t advance I just paused and thought. It was what Sal had taught me to do. He told me to think and wait and take breaks instead of trying and trying until I was convinced that the song was wrong.

                I sighed and stopped playing without finishing the song. Sal. I needed to talk to him. See if he was alright. I needed to work this out. But the good question was how. I thought about how I felt about this whole situation and came to the decision that I was like this song. I wasn’t sad about the whole situation because things happen for a reason. But I was certainly not happy either. I peeled myself off of the bench and onto my bed. I got under the covers, hiding from the world, and closed my eyes, letting more memories replay themselves on my mind. I didn’t even notice when I fell asleep.

                I woke up the next morning, late, and sat right on the bench of my piano again. I started playing, stringing chords together again, and just thinking about all the memories the years of happy and sad moments that I had with my parents. I remembered everything, my first time playing the violin, when I decided to play the piano and the fight about that, I remembered parties, birthdays, celebrations, tantrums, everything. I didn’t censure anything from my mind and just continued playing until it was all done, and I felt more than a little hollow. Ten years spent concentrating on the accident, ten years of Vivaldi haunting my dreams and life, ten years of sadness and depression and panic.

                I was tired. Bone tired. I had enough of suffering. I had enough of always being sad. I had enough of always hiding, staying silent in fear of not being heard again. I needed to take a hold of my life. When I turned eighteen in a day I needed to see what my parents had left me and face my own problems. I sighed placing my head in my hands. But hiding was all I knew how to do. I raked my hands through my hair, telling myself that I needed to start speaking up and speaking my mind. I got up and went to my closet, changing quickly and mindlessly getting into a pair of ripped jeans, a ripped shirt, and a pair of chucks. When I stopped to look at my hair in the mirror I noticed how I’d dressed and smiled. I felt a lone tear roll down my cheek and wiped it. Sal was truly the most wonderful thing that had happened to me. How else would I have found myself again? How else would I have learned to stop hiding? How would I have learned to talk again? To trust?

                I went out of my room and down the stairs. I needed to fix this. I needed to talk to him. I told my mom I was going over to Sal’s and she gave me a radiant smile. Before leaving I went to her and pushed into her arms. She hugged me back pressing her head into the hollow of my shoulder.

“I’m going to fix this,” I told her when I pushed back.

                She wiped her eyes quickly and scowled at me.

“You better, young man,” she told me.

                I leaned in to kiss her cheek and she told me to go fix things with the man I loved already. I smiled as I went out of my house and closed the door behind me. I did love the man. I walked slowly the small distance between my house and Sal’s. I thought about what I was going to say, about apologizing for not staying to talk to him, waiting to hear his side of the story, and just assuming the worse. I also guessed that I had to apologize for breaking Kev’s nose, and for not stopping by before to see how he was. I was also thinking about how to ask him to come to the city with me, and sleep two days there with me. I would tell him about my parents’ death anniversary in less than two days and tell him that we were leaving tomorrow, if he came with me.

                I thought a lot of things, even made a little speech in which I would tell him how much I loved him and how sorry I was. But when I got to the door and rang the bell it all went rushing out my mind. Ash opened the door looking happy, and I thought that was the first time I ever saw her smiling. Then when she saw me, the usual glare and wary look settled on her face. She looked at me like I was the nastiest thing she’d ever seen and my heart fell a little. Of course if she didn’t trust me before now I was less than dust on the ground for her. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she told me I couldn’t see her son ever again. My throat tightened up when she stared right at me with a glare, looking expectant.

“What do you want?” She said.

                I swallowed. I needed to speak, I needed to stop hiding. I needed to fight.

“I want to talk to Sal,” I said, my voice sounding more confident than I felt.

“Well he doesn’t want to talk to you,” Ash said leveling me with her glare again.

                I think all my resolve broke with that. He didn’t want to talk to me? Did he hate me? Did he not want to see me ever again? I swallowed again. Fight. I was here to fight and speak up.

“Please, I need to talk to him,” I said.

                Ash raised an eyebrow at me.

“Whatever you need to tell him you tell to me and I’ll decide if I want to tell him,” she said.

“But…” I started saying.

“It’s either that or you go back the way you came, what’s it gonna be?” Ash said, sounding like she was running on her last nerve.

“I’m going to the city tomorrow and I want him to come with me,” I said, taking deep breaths.

                Fight. Fight. Fight. Speak. Speak. Speak. I was here to speak my mind, and fight for the man I loved.

“What are you going to do in the city?” Ash said eyeing me suspiciously.

“I’m going to visit my parents’ graves,” I said, feeling proud of myself when my voice didn’t lose its confidence.

                Ash’s eyebrows shot up before she could control herself. She looked taken aback by that for a few seconds before she regained her usual glare.

“Tomorrow’s the anniversary?” She asked eyeing me warily.

“No, it’s the day after tomorrow,” I said and she looked at me like I was really stupid.

                She looked like she was about to close the door on my face for mocking her so I hurried to explain.

“I’m going to stay three days. I leave tomorrow around noon and go to sleep in a hotel, maybe have a special dinner or something since tomorrow is my birthday. Then the next day I’ll go to visit their graves, the house, the place of the accident, and other things, and then I return to the hotel. The last day I’ll leave around morning and be back here before noon. I wanted Sal to come with me,” I said.

                Ash seemed to process what I’d just said and stayed silent for a few minutes. Then she turned her glare back on me and eyed me like I was a bug squashed on her windshield.

“We’ll see,” she said closing the door on my face before I could say anything else.

                I stood there for a few seconds thinking about what she meant and about the fact that I just had another civil conversation with Ash. I was definitely getting better with this. I turned hesitantly not sure where that conversation left me and went back to my house. I saw the blinds move and couldn’t help but smile. Mom. I went in and she was sitting on the dining table nonchalantly reading her newspaper, pretending she hadn’t seen everything from the window.

“So how did it go?” She asked distractedly, like she didn’t really care.

                I raised my eyebrow at her.

“I know you saw,” I said.

“What are you talking about?” She asked still not looking up from the newspaper.

“Mom, the newspaper is upside down.”

                She frowned and seemed to concentrate on the newspaper for the first time since she sat down. She saw that I was right, and sighed. She put it down and looked at me.

“I couldn’t help it, I was so nervous for you,” she said. “I saw that Ash opened the door, how bad was it?”

                I thought about it for a second. Had the conversation really been that bad?

“It wasn’t bad at all, I just explained to her that I wanted Sal to come up to the city with me tomorrow. She said that she would see about that,” I said sitting down next to her.

“She said that?” Mom said and I thought her eyes might just pop out.

“Yeah she said that,” I said nodding. “Did you book the hotel reservations already?”

                My mom stared at me for a few seconds still looking surprised, but then she recovered and smiled at me.

“Yeah they’re under your name,” she said.

                It was my turn to look taken aback.

“My name? Why are they under my name?” I said.

“Well I explained that you would be turning eighteen tomorrow and the hotel decided to make an exception. Oh here,” my mom said, handing me what I guessed was her credit card with a wide smile on her face. “You’ll be staying four days, I added one day just for you two, at a five star hotel, and you have a reservation for two at a restaurant tomorrow. Oh and you can take the car with you. Consider it all a birthday present.”

                I stared at her for a few seconds, not really knowing what to say. I opened my mouth thinking about telling her that she was the best mom ever, or something along those lines, but her beeper went crazy on the coffee table. She got up and went to it. Then she hurried up the stairs and in less than five minutes she was back down with new clothes and her purse.

“I need to go, it seems like someone found a Newfoundland with a broken leg and he’s giving everyone a hard time,” mom said, looking through her purse. “I’ll be back later if there are no more complications.”

                She came to me and kissed my cheek before leaving in a hurry. It seemed like it would be a nice time for my dad and I to have some bonding time. I groaned. He will most probably want to teach me how to cook again. The last time he tried that mom yelled at both of us for the mess the kitchen was. I went up the stairs and into my room. Maybe I could beg for mercy, since I still had to pack and all that. It also seemed like I would have to pack more now. I decided to get it done today so I could sleep in tomorrow. I grabbed a duffle and started going through my closet thinking what I would take and what I wouldn’t.

                I put in three pairs of jeans, just in case, six shirts, two pair of sweats and six changes of underwear. I also packed a pair of normal –not ripped- jeans, a button down shirt, and a normal –not Sal’s- jacket. I put in a pair of board shorts and added whatever I had in my bathroom that I thought I might need. I thought about what shoes I would take and decided not to add any. I just needed my black chucks and I would be wearing those when I left. I fought hard and long to fit everything into my poor duffle bag, but I won the battle in the end. I heard a chuckle come from my door and turned to see my dad standing there, looking amused.

“You could’ve just asked me for a suitcase, you know?” My dad said.

                I gave him that look that says, “Are you fucking kidding me?” And my dad laughed harder.

“Well you didn’t ask.” He said.

                I glared at him and he just cracked up, laughing even harder. When he was done, he went to his and mom’s room and came back with a suitcase. I looked between the suitcase and my about to explode duffle bag and gave him a pleading look.

“Oh no, I’m in charge of cooking today, and unless you want to cook with me you’re solving this yourself,” he said.

                That got me moving pretty quickly. I fought long and hard again to open my duffle bag, but I again won the battle. When I was done moving everything from my duffle to the suitcase I closed the suitcase and it did so without giving me a hard time. I sighed glad that I was finally done with that. My dad yelled that dinner was ready and I went down the stairs. I set the table and dad placed two plates of steaming steak with wine sauce and cauliflower and broccoli salad. The fact that my dad doesn’t cook often really doesn’t mean that he can’t cook. I can tell you right now that he’s a great cook but from what I have observed he tends to make a mess of the kitchen whenever he cooks. Just as we finished eating my mom arrived looking bone tired and saying she would have dinner done in no time. That is until she saw that we were done eating and she turned her death glare on my father. He shrank back a little under the heat of her glare.

“You’re cleaning that while I eat,” she said without even having to go into the kitchen.

                Dad hurried to do her bidding. I chuckled and she turned to glare at me. I got up and went to kiss her on the cheek.

“You have to help him. You’re not going to buy your way out with that kiss,” she said eyeing me.

                I wrinkled my nose and she chuckled. I went into the kitchen to heat up her dinner while she changed. When she came back down I placed it in front of her and went back into the kitchen to help my dad clean the mess he’d done. Once we were done I was about ready to collapse.

“How about you don’t cook anymore?” I said.

“Considering it,” he said sighing.

                I snorted and told him good night before going to the dining table where mom was back to her crossword and telling her good night too. I went up the stairs and into my room. I changed and plopped into my bed, burrowing under the covers. I thought about Sal and what I would tell him if he came with the city to me, about how I would explain it all to him. I thought that this time around I would bare my soul to him instead of telling him small pieces of what happened. If he came to the city with me. He probably won’t. Ash wouldn’t let him. I sighed and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep and stop thinking about tomorrow. I would cross that bridge when I got to it.