Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind - Treebros

Chapter 39: "Wanna Make You Cry"

Sunday, June 16th

  Mom flutters around the living room in a hurry, fussing over every little thing, double and triple checking that her keys were in her purse. I watch her buzz around, pulling my legs underneath me on the couch. The last thing I need is for her to trip and possibly break a leg or something.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asks again, nervously glancing at me before remembering that shoes are very important when it comes to leaving the house. 

"Yes, Mom. Stop worrying so much," I groan, pulling at a string on my sock. It's like she thinks if I'm alone for one second I'll break down. I don't blame her, but come on.

"I can't help it. I know today's hard for you, and you've seemed so sad lately," she sighs. Father's Day's always been a tough day for me, yeah, but so is my birthday. So is every other day of the year. I've gotten through all those.

"I'm always sad," I retort, leaning into the couch. I've decided to leave my room for once. I'll do the same thing I always do, be bored and desperately search for some documentary or something to watch, but it will be downstairs instead. How exciting.

I kinda want to try a show that has like a million episodes so I can get invested and have something to do. Maybe Criminal Minds. Alana was telling me about that show.

"You know what I mean," Mom says, giving me the mom look.

I appreciate her concern, but even if I was going to have a panic attack the second she left, I probably wouldn't tell her. She senses my determination, and sighs again.

"How's Connor? He doing anything today?" she asks. Like I know. We haven't talked since our argument last Sunday.

"I... maybe. I don't know. His dad isn't exactly Father of the Year either," I shrug. They'll probably fight and yell or something. I feel a bad for Connor. He's in the middle of a fight already. He doesn't need that.

The guilt's been eating at me for days. I was wrong. I knew it then, and I know it now. But every day in class, I allow the icy wall between us to stand.

"You know I'm here for you, right?" Mom asks, finally stopping in front of me. Her hands are on her hips and that tired smile is there again.

"Yeah," I whisper, trying to return it. I don't know if it works, but she seems to relax.

"Okay," she nods, scanning me like everything wrong with me is physical. "Well, I'll be home around 2, okay? Please eat something and go to sleep at a decent time. You have your exams tomorrow, right?"

"Regents." I'm not even nervous. I'm just exhausted. I tiredly acknowledge them and their importance, but I'm just numb.

"Okay, well don't study too much. Studies have shown that cramming for an exam could actually hurt your score," Mom spouts, patting her pockets for the keys she double checked were in her purse.

"I know," I sigh. She says this every year. Though to be fair, every other year I did cram. This year? Not so much.

"I love you," she calls, heading towards the front door, now that she's found her keys exactly where she's left them.