Chapter Forty-Three: Clearing The Atmosphere, Making Nachos

19K 898 289
                                    

Chapter Forty-Three: Clearing The Atmosphere, Making Nachos
Cole's POV

"It'll be fine," Nathaniel comforted, his voice echoing over the phone. 

"Okay, but saying that it will be fine, isn't making me want to throw up any less." I murmured, letting out a sigh and getting out of my car. "I've left my car, I am going to throw up," 

He sighed, "I wish you would've let me come with," He said. 

"No." I took a deep breath, pausing at the diner's door, "I'm a big boy, I can do this." 

"You can do this." 

I put my hand on the door and then pulled away wincing, "Nathaniel, quick, say something dirty so I can stop thinking about this for a minute." 

"Please don't say something dirty, I'm still in this call too, ya know." Brian's voice echoed and I cackled, imagining his wince from here. 

"Come on, Cole." Brian said, "He may be your dad, asshole extraordinaire, but at least you're surrounded by people." He comforted. 

I sighed, "You're right," I put my hand on the door handle and before I could second guess myself - I tugged it open. 

It had been just a week since Nathaniel asked me out. At first I bothered and mocked Brian's cringe, over the phone phone calls as much as I could. But then I realized how nice it actually was to call Nathaniel. I was nothing like Brian though. 

Going back to school meant I saw Nathaniel already, and when I didn't see him I was going over to his house. We called on occasion. Brian was just stuck in his middle schooler phase. 

I had texted my dad with the support of Nathaniel one night. It went... well, as well as you could expect. 

Even though he had slapped me before, I guess seeing she-who-shall-not-be-named hit me made him... open his eyes more? I wasn't sure. 

But I texted him for awhile, he told me that he just wanted to see me again, and that after I had left he kicked her out of his house since all she was doing was bitching. 

I wasn't surprised though. He did a similar thing to me. 

I saw him sitting at one of the tables - I was thankful it wasn't a booth. 

"Okay, I've entered the place. I'll let you go now." 

"Call me when you're done." Nathaniel finished. 

"Call us when you're-" 

"I meant us," 

I cackled again, amused. "Bye," I said. 

I hung up the phone and my dad greeted me with an awkward smile, "Cole," he murmured. 

I smiled at him sadly, "Dad," I glanced at my feet, "Did you order yet?" I took a seat and he did the same thing, sliding into the table. 

"No, I figured if I ordered I'd have to order for you and I have no idea what you'd want." He murmured, "besides an apple juice, with-" 

"Extra ice?" 

He smiled, "Yep," 

I didn't know... how to feel. 

I knew that I couldn't just forgive him, and I didn't want to. His words really hurt me, the way he treated me... really hurt. 

I knew I wasn't the best son, in fact, I probably lost that award to his pillow many years in a row. I knew I had made his life hell at points, I knew he was stressed with his business and I never helped with the way that I had acted.

My MessWhere stories live. Discover now