DON'T WORRY

III

The final bell rang, marking the end of another school day. As I approached my locker, a crumpled piece of paper with my locker combination stared back at me. Frustration built up as I attempted to open it several times, each time fumbling the digits. Out of nowhere, a voice broke my concentration, making me flinch. It was Ben. "Need some help?" I nodded, embarrassed. "I can't seem to get it right." Ben's calm demeanor put me at ease. "What's your combination?" he asked. "32, 6, and 0," I replied. With swift confidence, he spun the dial and opened the locker. "And done, here, get your stuff." Grateful, I looked up and smiled. "Thank you so much." He shrugged nonchalantly. "No problem."

Exiting the school, the weight of the day began to lift. Ben and I fell into step beside each other. "So, what's the plan when you get home?" he inquired. I considered my options. "I'd usually do homework, but it's just the first day, so I don't have anything yet." He smirked. "Wanna hang at my place then?" I grinned in response. "Yeah, sure." He proposed sharing his address via text. "Do you want my phone number so I can send you my address?" he asked. "Sure," I agreed. He handed me his digits. "Okay, my phone number is 219-409-8109." I nodded. "See you later." "Bye," he called, a friendly wave accompanying his words.

Upon reaching home, I was greeted by an unexpected scene. A woman stood beside my dad, his arm wrapped around her. "Nick, you're home!" my dad exclaimed. The introduction followed, "This is my girlfriend—or, I mean, fiancée—Hannah." A polite greeting was exchanged. Gathering courage, I ventured, "Oh, Dad, I'm supposed to hang out with Ben. Can I go?" He hesitated. "You can't, we're having dinner tonight as a new family." My disappointment was palpable. "But—" I began. "No buts, you're staying home tonight."

Later that evening, as I sat at the dinner table, my appetite had abandoned me. The tension from earlier was still heavy on my mind. Hannah's voice broke the silence, "Aren't you going to eat your food?" My dad chimed in, "Yeah, your food's getting cold." The truth was, my appetite was the least of my concerns. "I guess I'm not really hungry," I admitted. Seeking an escape, I looked to my dad. "Can I excuse myself? I have homework to do." He sighed, relenting, "Yeah, sure, I guess." Hannah started to speak, but my dad interjected, "It's fine, really." With a quick nod, I excused myself from the table, leaving behind the tension of an evening that had taken unexpected turns.