"God, stop smiling like that. It's making me nauseous," Brett said while biting into his cheeseburger.

"You're just jealous," I said.

"Not likely," Brett responded with a mouth full of meat and cheese.

I shook my head at him. "What happened to your health kick?" I said, pointing at his food.

He shrugged and took another bite of his burger.

"You should come jogging with me," I offered, I was always supportive of him when he decided to try and be healthier. Brett's diet is a bit of a running joke with us. He's always saying that getting a girlfriend is going to be tough, what with his paunch and all. He says it jokingly, but I don't think it's really a joke to him at all. He's always been the chubby kid, he used to get teased for it until he transformed himself into the funny, chubby kid that everyone likes. But still, whenever he says he wants to lose weight or start eating healthily, I'm always as supportive as possible. I even ate salad with him at lunchtime during his last attempt.  

"I'll come jogging with you when you stop being such an ass," he said, swallowing his mouthful.

"How am I an ass?" I asked.

"Mmmmm, let's see. You're pinning for some fantasy women when there are real ones right here. Close by."

I shook my head, "She's not a fantasy. I didn't imagine that kiss. Trust me it was very real. And she's close by. She goes to our school. Check it out," I slid my phone over to him and let him see the last few messages.

Brett scrunched up his face and slid the phone back. "Now I'm really nauseous... Roses are red???" He shuddered and pretended to gag for added effect.

"Whatever, man," I said smiling at the message again before putting the phone back in my pocket. I looked up to find Brett staring at me.

"You really have no idea who it is?" he asked.

"Nope. All I know is she goes to our school."

"And chews some minty, cinnamon gum," he added.

I studied him. I still got the sense that he was holding out on me. I wagged a finger at him. "I swear, if you know who she is and you're not telling me, this friendship is over. So, do you know who it is?"

Brett stared at me with a dead serious face and slowly started to nod. "No. But do you want my advice, Connor?"

"Sure," I said, as I reached out to steal some fries.

"Search your heart, Connor. Search your rosy red, violet blue heart."

"For what?" I asked.

"Heart you must search for true feelings." Brett's Yoda impression was terrible and I laughed. "Jokes aside though, seriously, you need to really think about some stuff Connor. Before it's too late."

With that, Brett picked up his stuff and walked away from the table.

"Hey," I shouted after him, "what kind of stuff? Too late for what? What does that even mean?"

***

Tennis practice went late again that day. With the tournament one week away, the atmosphere on the court was pure aggression and testosterone. Chase and Tyler were total dicks all afternoon. The scout was for sure coming and every single one of us wanted our shot so badly we could taste it.

The only reason I'd started playing tennis all those year ago, was because my dad had been a tennis player and I'd wanted to be just like him. He'd been my boyhood hero, a super hero dad who could do no wrong, and now he was just... gone.And I could feel and hear the emptiness of him each time the ball connected with the racket. The sound it made seemed to echo back at me, as if the sound was being made inside an empty cave. And suddenly the enjoyment that I usually felt when playing, was all gone.

When practise was over, I took a slow walk home. I didn't have it in me to jog, and as soon as my house was in sights, all I wanted was to lie in the bathtub and eat an extra-large bowl of sugar-filled cereal. I needed to rest my aching feet which were officially covered in blisters. But when I walked inside the first thing I noticed was that the house had had a serious cleaning—That was very unusual. My mother was not the cleaning type. And then when I heard the voices coming from the dining room, I forgot all about the cereal and the bath.

"So, as you can see, the dining room looks out onto the garden, so in summer you can open the doors up and dine al fresco." My mom was smiling and hardly acting like herself. She sounded like she was selling a goddamn timeshare.

"Lovely. It's a great feature," the woman with the clipboard said. She turned and I read the embroidered logo on her shirt: 'Pam Sue Real Estate'

Before my mom could start her phony living room presentation, I interrupted. "Mom...." I said, as I entered. My mom turned awkwardly and looked at me. She could tell from my tone (and my face) that I wasn't happy.

"Connor, hi, I didn't think you would be home so soon..." she sounded guilty. As if she was committing a crime, clearly she hadn't intended me to walk in on this and that hurt me more than I could say. She was keeping more secrets from me.Just one more secret that my parents were keeping from me.

"Mom...." I replied flatly. "I thought you said we didn't need to move soon?"

My mom signed and then looked away, she didn't answer me. She didn't need to. I could see that plans had clearly changed. Once again, without asking me. Asking whether I was okay with any of these changes. Which I wasn't.

"Hi there, I'm Pam—"

I cut her off. "I can read."

"Connor! Don't be rude."

"Rude?" I was aware that I'd raised my voice now, but couldn't help it. "Do you know what's rude, mom? Not telling me for months that you and dad were getting a divorce. Not telling me for months that he was getting a new job and moving out. And then making me move when you haven't even asked me if I want to. And since you did never ask, do you want my answer... No, I don't want to move, Okay?"

"Perhaps I should leave you two to discuss this." The estate agent walked past me. "I'll just wait in the kitchen."

"No," I said loudly and she turned back to me. "Maybe you shouldn't wait in the kitchen, maybe you should just leave," I said, fully aware that I had never been this rude to an adult in my life before. The estate agent gave me a sympathetic smile, which only made me feel worse, and then turned and walked out the front door, leaving my mom and I alone. We stared at each other for a while, she had a strange look on her face that I didn't know how to read, and then she sighed, pulled out a chair and slumped into it. She looked totally defeated and I suddenly felt like a total asshole for being so rude. "Mom. I'm sorry. It's just—"

"I'm not the one who wants to get divorced," she soddenly blurted out.

"What do you mean? I thought you and dad both said that you wanted to. That you mutually decided that you..." I stopped talking when I saw her face had twisted into this thing that I had never seen before.

"I know I said that, but...." She pulled her hair out of the messy bun at the top of her head, as if the band was strangling her and let her hair fall to her shoulders. It looked knotted and unwashed. Not like normal. "I guess I felt like if I said it enough out loud, it might come true. That I might also want this divorce, but I....don't."

I stared at my mom as she put her elbow on the table and slumped a little.

"I don't understand, you said that you've outgrown each other emotionally. You said that you had learned all you can from this relationship, that's what you said."

"Well, I lied then!" she said, her voice going up an octave and sounding somewhat hysterical now. "It's your dad who wants this divorce, I've just somehow agreed to it because..." she shook her head and took a deep breath in and out. "I knew it wasn't what it used to be. But how could it be, we've been married for so long. And of course relationships change, and evolve over time. I tell that to my clients constantly."

I walked over to the table slowly and sat down, waiting for my mother to carry on.

"I know we got married young," she started again. "And we had you when we were young too, we were both still studying, but we managed just fine. We got our degrees, we both got jobs really easily, we bought a little one bedroom apartment first, and it was fine while you were still young, but both worked hard and soon we bought this house, and we settled into life and I thought everything was alright, I thought everything was fine...I thought it was fine." She stopped talking and then turned her head and looked out the window into the garden. I could tell she wasn't looking at anything at all, her eyes had a faraway, glazed over quality that I didn't like. Where had my mother gone? She seemed to be disappearing in front of my eyes. A tear that had been clinging to her bottom lash, dropped and rolled down her cheek. She didn't move to wipe it, and I felt my heart break for her.

"I'm sorry I was rude to the estate agent." I said softly.

She shook her head and forced a stoic smile. "It's okay," she said. "You're angry..." She turned to me. "I'm angry, too. I'm confused and I'm angry and I'm sad and I'm...." she shook her head. "I'm a lot of things, Connor. A lot."

Heartbroken. That was the word she couldn't bring herself to say. I could see it, my mother looked absolutely heartbroken and it broke my heart too.

"Why are you getting divorced then if you don't want to?" I asked.

"What can I do Connor, cling on to someone who doesn't want to be with me anymore? That wouldn't be fair to anyone, even me."

"What about going to some therapy?" I asked, feeling slightly desperate now.

She shook her head. "He doesn't want to. He says it's pointless. He's mind it made up."

"But why is his mind made up? I don't understand. You guys never fight. You guys seem fine, I don't understand? Is there someone else?"

"No. Definitely not," my mom said firmly. "Your father wouldn't do that."

"Then what? Why does he want a divorce all of a sudden?"

"I don't think it's all of a sudden, I think your father hasn't been happy for a while, I just didn't notice. God, I'm so stupid.I mean, I do this for a living. And when it's happening in my own home, to me, I don't notice it."

"You're not stupid, mom. Don't say that. Dad's the stupid one for thinking it's okay to suddenly leave you. He's the stupid one for just waking up one day and deciding to walk out on his entire life and family one day. Bastard."

"No, Connor. That's your dad you're talking about."

"My dad? How can you say that, mom. After everything he's putting you through?"

"Connor," my mom reached out and tried to take my hands, but I pulled away.

"No, the dad I know wouldn't do this. The dad I know wouldn't move out and leave us. The dad I know wouldn't just give up on something without trying to fix it and make it work. The dad I know wouldn't already have a new job in another city and not have told me that he even wanted another job somewhere else. That is not the dad I know. The dad I used to know is gone and I don't ever want to see him again."