(Chapter 18) My Word is the Berretta

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After school, Gerard walked me straight home. Unfortunately, he had a family thing he had to attend. His mother would have thrown a conniption fit if he missed the visit of his relatives that seemed to only show up once every eon. He wasn't close to them, so he would have loved to skip, but instead, he had to be subjected to the torture that was a family reunion. 

I wished him well as we parted and I headed up my driveway, blowing him a kiss goodbye as he made an uneasy look as he turned the knob of his own front door. I chuckled lightly as I entered my house, kicking my shoes off. 

As I made my way to the kitchen to grab a quick snack, I was thrown off guard. Since when did Dad get home at 4:30? He usually works late or is on a business trip. "Good afternoon, Y/n," Dad greeted, flashing me an almost uncanny smile as he took a dish out of the oven. 

"Uh, hi?" I said with puzzlement, starting to walk over to the coffee machine. 

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, I already have a pot made," he said as he produced my favorite mug from the cabinet, filling it with the coffee. 

"Okay, then?" I said still concerned as I sat at the dining room table. I took the mug and sipped the liquid, just how I like it. Weird... 

"You're going to have your favorite for dinner, and also I went to the bakery and got some dessert for us," he said casually as if he did things like this all the time. 

"Who are you and what did you do with my father?" I joked with a slightly serious undertone. "Are you just some alien that morphed to look like my dad? Or perhaps a clone?" I scrutinized, narrowing my eyes on the man. We both laughed aptly at my comments. "But for real, why are you home this early and doing all of this? Is someone coming over or something?" I inquired. 

"No, no, I just thought... I thought we could y'know..." he stumbled to find the right explanation.

"Have some bonding time?" I finished his sentence for him. 

"Yeah, yeah somethin' like that," he said ambiguously, causing me to shoot him a questioning expression which I quickly hid. What in the fuck is up with him? 

 Soon it was time for dinner. I was more and more dumbfounded by his strange behaviors. He never wanted to hang around me before, he never would make my favorite homecooked meal, and he was never so obnoxiously nice to me. Beforehand, he was more like a roommate that I occasionally bumped into in passing, then he'd be off to work or who knows where. The deepest conversations we've ever had were when he asked me what I wanted to do after high school or when we talked about our favorite season that one time. The bottom line is, that I couldn't wrap my head around his sudden change that afternoon. 

We ate at the table almost like a regular family would do, rather than disappearing into our own rooms and eating alone like we usually did when we were both home. We made light conversation as we picked at our dinner, me occasionally offering a forced laugh at his jokes. Once we were done, I started to stand up to put my dish in the sink but was abruptly stopped by Dad. "I'll get that," he said, taking it along with his own. "Besides, I want to talk to you for a minute." He added as he placed them down in the divided basin, picking up a rag to wipe down the slightly dirty counters. 

"Oh, okay," I replied plainly which wasn't a reflection of how I was feeling inside. What would he want to talk to me about? That phrasing couldn't mean just small talk, it seemed to be something more, but what? What could it be? My mind whirled with a flurry of questions, causing me to gain a bit of anxiety from the anticipation of his return to the table and the subsequent conversation he wanted to have. 

After what felt like an eternity, he rejoined me at the dining table. I fidgeted with my fingers in suspense over the words he was about to utter. He cleared his throat, folding his hands deliberately on the table, staring at them instead of meeting the attentive gaze of my eyes. "So, um... I don't really know the best way of saying this," he started, me hanging onto the end of his sentence, shuffling in my seat with expectancy for him to find his words. "A few months ago I got offered a better job position. I looked into it some and I'm gonna take it." 

"That's grea-" I started to congratulate before I was cut off. 

"We're moving to Florida, Y/n," he spat out as quickly as the words could roll off his tongue. 

 moving

The word shot straight through my stable and content heart like a bullet, shattering it into a million shards. I was left with my bottom lip slightly ajar, not being able to articulate anything other than a sentence of disbelief, "Say that again?" 

"Yeah, we're moving to Florida in about a month. It's for the best, we need the money and this job pays a lot more," he expanded, making my eyes widen as the realization that I heard him properly set in. 

I couldn't do anything else but flee. I stood up hastily after freeing myself from the paralyzing moment, leaving the kitchen in big heavy strides. The sound of an exasperated "fuck" rang behind me, but I continued without looking back. I made it back up to the comfort of my room, pulling the curtains closed. 

I laid flat on my back on my bed, staring up at the familiar popcorn ceiling. It wasn't until I sniffled uncontrollably that I realized that a waterfall of tears has begun to spill from my eyes. I choked, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. I wished as hard as I could that I would just wake up from this sick dream in a cold sweat, gasping at the realism of it but realizing it was just a nightmare. To my dismay, the awakening never came; I just continued to bawl into the pillow for seemingly hours. 

After a while, I resurfaced from trying to block out the inevitable truth in my pillow, rolling over to see the day had turned over to the deep blue of late evening. No orange sunset seeped through the crack in my curtains, so I flicked on the dim bedside lamp, holding my own arms while letting out a cough. 

After 'recomposing' myself, I could finally ruminate over the specifics of what moving entailed. I would be leaving everything that made my life liveable behind, my childhood town, friends, and Gerard. Oh god, how am I supposed to tell the guys? I can't leave them, I've known them since we were just little kids. How am I supposed to live without seeing that little bitch Frank every day? How can I live without the guidance of Mama Fro Fro? Who else am I gonna make fun of for being so awkward besides Mikey? Who am I going to confide in and find solace besides my lifelong best friend Gerard? 

With that, I broke down again. My tears continued until late that night. Even when they ceased, I felt like I could cry rivers more. The tranquility of sleep never swept over me, unfortunately leaving me in hell until the wee hours of the morning. 

Life seemed to come crashing down in a matter of seconds, further proof of how torturous and unfair life is. Everything had been going fantastically up until those faithful words were uttered, but it was bound to deteriorate again at some point, and this was it. I couldn't have my fairytale end, could I? 


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