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"I don't like this," Josh told me, shaking his head as he drove down our road.

"I know, I heard you the first four times you said it," I replied in an irritated tone, looking over at him with hooded eyes.

"I just think you should have told your dad," Josh added, almost chastising me.

"I didn't ask what you thought."

Asking Josh to drive me to my mother's house on Sunday afternoon probably wasn't my brightest idea. I would have just driven myself, but Josh insisted that he needed the car today and that he could drive me where I wanted to go.

When he found out I was headed to my mother's, he didn't shy away from telling me how he felt about it. He didn't like my plan to tell my father about it afterwards, but I had sworn him to secrecy.

"Are you trying to move back in with her?" Josh accused, looking over at me briefly as he stopped at a red light.

"No," I denied, looking at him like he was crazy.

After she kicked me out, I didn't think she could do anything to get me to move back in with her. Kicking me out the way she did was irredeemable in that sense. I could forgive her for it, but not enough to go back.

"Is your step dad going to be there?"

"I assume so."

Josh sighed and continued driving toward my destination. We didn't speak for the rest of the ride, but I could tell by the way Josh's jaw twitched that he still had some things to say to me. I didn't encourage him to speak though. I wanted to spare myself from his chastising.

Eventually Josh pulled the car up in front of my old home, and I sat in the car as I looked at the house. Nothing had changed on the outside, but I was sure the inside was unrecognizable. Memories poked at my brain, threatening to puncture the walls I built up to repress them.

"Do you need me to pick you up later?" Josh asked as I opened the door to get out of the car.

I shook my head. "Fox will."

Josh nodded as I shut the car door. I took a deep breath before marching up to the front door and then paused, staring down at the welcome mat.

What do I do at a home that used to be mine? Do I just walk right in like I still lived here? Or do I knock like a stranger?

I decided on knocking, not having the courage to walk in without doing so.

Mom was quick to answer the door, a wide smile taking up her entire face. I held my breath for a moment, the reality of seeing my mother for the first time in months finally setting in.

She looked the same, her dark brown curls were tightly wound and her makeup was done to perfection. She wore an outfit that seemed too formal for our gathering, so I assumed it was what she wore to church.

There was a lump in my throat as I looked at her and I didn't think I would be able to speak. I hadn't let myself think too much about what coming here would do to me emotionally, but I quickly realized that it unsettled me. It felt as though I was in a foreign place that I had never been before. And despite the welcome mat I was standing on, there was nothing welcoming about this place.

"Elijah, come in," Mom insisted, moving aside so I could walk in.

She didn't hug me. She always used to hug me whenever I got home.

"I made some pasta for lunch," she told me as she led me to the dining room. She always refused to eat in the kitchen.

When we walked through the living room, I saw that my senior picture had been taken down from the fireplace along with some other more recent photos of me. Only a few baby pictures remained.

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