A Shade of Cool

II: The Pool Party

This was happening. It was actually happening. I was going to a party tonight and not just any party, but a party with Noah. I know I said I wasn't interested and I wasn't, not in partying anyway, but in knowing I'd be with him all night. I'd see him shirtless, wet and diving into water. Just like I pictured. The invitation sent me home smiling as I unboarded the bus, waving to him as we parted ways. The entire bus journey was him telling me what to bring and I knew I'd deliver. Having an alcohol dependent Mother gave me that.

I headed to my house, a skip in my step as I opened the door and got in, "Mom! I'm back!" I called out to her. The smell of fresh pie swam from the kitchen and to me in the hall. Now here's the deal, my Mom was the typical housewife you'd see on those sexist posters reading 'This is what ALL women want for Christmas!' She kept the house in perfect condition, everything looked like an image of a vintage magazine. She cooked, she wore a blue dress and shoes to match, her blonde hair in a neat bun atop her head. However, during the night, that smile faded and so did the liquor from the cabinet in the living room.

It's funny, what goes on behind closed doors.

My sister Avery would've been here, she should've been here. But she's gone. She has been for thirty days now. It was a usual occurrence. Avery was a year older than me and attended Community College by my school. And she never followed the rules, some called it 'Middle Child Syndrome' I just called it being a bitch. My other sister, Marissa, was in university a few states over in Chicago. She was only a phone call away, I knew she'd get the fastest flight if I asked her too, but I wasn't selfish enough to do that. She had enough on her plate.

So Mom was my issue. I removed my shoes and walked into the neat, tidy house. A house you'd be scared to touch anything in, in fear of making the slightest mess, "In here, Jacob!" My Mom's sing-song voice chirped from the kitchen.

I continued and saw her stood over a freshly baked pie, beaming as if she'd just made the worlds greatest masterpiece, "An apple pie, freshly cooked by Chef Momma!" She waved her hands to it dramatically, "And! I have equipped us with ice cream and soda. So I'm thinking, tonight, after dinner, we can finish up a turkey and vegetate on the couch watching old movies with this bad boy," She seemed so happy and that hurt my heart. I knew by seven she'd be as drunk as a sailor but I hated to say anything.

"Ah, well, um..." I must've given off a sign as her beautiful face dropped from happy to upset, she looked down at the counter and bit her bottom lip, "It's just come up, a party."

Her head shot up, "A party?" She quickly placed a happy look on her face, "Well you should go-"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes! There's always tomorrow, huh?" She laughed but I knew she was hurt.

"I can stay-"

"Don't be silly, you hardly ever leave the house. Go have fun," She waved her hand at me and pulled a face. I frowned a bit and slightly turned away as I stared at her, her expression turning distant and teeth biting savagely at her nails. I stopped and turned to her completely but was startled when she looked at me, "Oh! And be safe! Don't do anything- just be safe, okay?"

I nodded, "Yes."

With that I quickly turned and headed into the hall feeling like shit. I could tell her drinking would start earlier than usual now. I hated that. I headed upstairs to my room and shut the door throwing my bag and books onto my bed. Today had gone from 'eh' to good to shit and it was tiring.

I quickly headed to my closet and opened it, looking inside. Biting my lip a bit, I never really swam. So the only bottoms I had were ones from when I was ten. I anxiously dug them out from the back of my draw and held them up to my crotch. "Yeah, they will do... if I was a stick!" I rolled my eyes and tossed them aside. Those were the days when my Dad was around, trying to teach me to swim at Lake Barroway.