21: Dread That Settled In My Stomach

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"I'm home." I halfheartedly called into the house as I closed the door behind me. It was yet again Tuesday, meaning that I not only didn't get to hang out with Sam, but I also had to deal with both of my parents. I walked into the living room, where my dad was silently reading through the newspaper. Sometimes I was certain that he was just trying very hard to be the American stereotype of a father.

He sent a glance my way. "Hey."

"Hey." I awkwardly replied. Then I went straight for the kitchen, because I was far more inclined to talk to my mom. I didn't hate my dad or anything, but we were just always so far from understanding each other. It made every conversation feel like running a marathon just to try to cross the miles between us. Mom was in the middle of making what smelt like lasagna, which was more my kind of communication.

"How's your day been, Sawyer Jay?" She asked, adjusting her apron — because of course she was the type of mom to wear an apron — and turning to me with a smile.

"Same as always." I dryly answered, grabbing an apple out of the basket on the counter that she always made sure to keep filled with them.

"Put that back." She snapped, grabbing the apple from my hand and setting it back where I got it from. "Dinner will be done soon. So I take it your day was cruel, then?"

"That's usually my answer, yes." I said, staring longingly at the basket. My stomach growled, but I knew that she wasn't going to let me eat anything until dinner was ready. It was the same thing that happened every day, so I didn't really know why I still bothered trying to evade that cardinal rule.

She tucked some of her long hair behind her ear, leaning against the counter. The timer on the oven was slowly ticking down, and it seemed that she didn't have much to do while she waited. "Any advancements in the romance department?"

"Mom, please just drop it." I groaned, frowning at her as I wondered if I could sneak out of there and go to my room until dinner was ready.

"I'm only teasing." She tsked. "You take things too seriously."

The topic then shifted to her life at work. It carried on like that for a while, and I was just glad that she didn't seem to press any further for what was going on in my life. Especially not my love life, which was a topic I would gladly bury six feet under for the next half-century. The idea of coming out to her or my father made me a bit nauseous. Especially when I had no idea what to tell them.

Hey, Mom and Dad. This is my sort-of partner that I used to hate with all of my soul. Oh, yeah, he's also a boy. No, I'm not gay. Just extremely attracted to the golden retriever type.

Yeah, it was not going to be a fun time. Thankfully I didn't plan on telling them anything about it until I was certain that our relationship would even last. Hell, Sam had to at least ask me to be his official boyfriend first. Then maybe I would consider actually telling people in my life. But he also needed to sort out the whole issue with the druggies, because I didn't want the people I cared about to die just because of my affiliation with Sam.

Dinner was the same as always. It was mostly spent by my mom talking to my dad and occasionally asking for my opinion on whatever uninteresting topic they were fascinated by. He was going into detail about the youth football group that he coached, and that was officially the moment that I stopped paying attention altogether. Football was proven to be a bit of fun when I was actually at the games, but it was so boring when someone was just talking about it.

When dinner came to an end, I helped my mom clean the dishes before I went upstairs. I didn't do much from that point on, focusing mostly on scrolling through random posts on various social medias while Millie texted me about some guy her sister was currently seeing, asking if I agreed that he was kind of a douche. Judging by the information she relayed me, he was.

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