When You're In Love with a girl

Chapter 25, Byron Again

BYRON AGAIN

I have been lucky so far in life that I have never felt very busy. This has let me relax, wander around, and enjoy life.

Not anymore, thanks to my mother. It is like she wants me to be the way to the YouTube channel's success. You would have thought that my previous "cute date" with Byron at Central Park and the emotional sadness of Sam's accident would have forked in enough subscribers.

Mom seems to have recovered from the shock. Now she's just annoyed because of the hospital bills and the overall cost. Sam can't even add much to our vlogs because Mom says that the viewers will get bored because Sam isn't getting better. Sam isn't getting better, it is true, but I hope that someday he will be happy again. Each time I see him he seems dull and hollow, like his spirit has left him.

Mom may be accepting of Sam's accident, but my father is not doing well. He's been eating more chips, and he spends almost every minute on the couch. He even called in sick to work one day when I think he was feeling particularly depressed. When Sam's leg was cut away, so were Dad's dreams.

When Sam became conscious, he asked, "What happened?"

When he got the news that he would never be the same, he said, "My life is over."

It makes me think. We all have to keep living. Because life is a gift, except it's kind of useless. In the end, does it matter? Does it matter whether our life creations last beyond our lifetime? Does it matter whether we get to do what we would like to do for a living? Of course not; the universe is indifferent.

It's just easier to keep living, I suppose. So we all just keep going on.

I am sitting in my room right now, writing in my journals and thinking. Having just finished rereading Walden, I am in an introspective mood.

It is the weekend, today, and I am looking forward to free time. Sam's accident has caused my mom to loosen her restrictive rules she previously imposed after that incident with Tom. Maybe I should see him. We have not hung out together for so long. I miss talking with him. He kept me sane. And I know better than to lead him in; I really do.

I walk to the kitchen, where Mom is talking to Dad about visiting our relatives up in Boston for Thanksgiving.

"Alie," she says, looking at me.

She looks like she's going to request me do something. I quickly step in and say, "May I please walk to the library?"

Dad moves to sit down on the sofa. Mom frowns. "No, I've set up an appointment with the Deerbys at eleven o-clock. You will need to be there so I can film you and Byron."

It's ten o'clock right now. "We still have an hour," I say tentatively. Whenever I speak with my mom, I feel like my words on treading on eggshells.

I hate it. Why does she have to make me pretend to be Byron's date? I feel the familiar surge of anger whenever Byron comes into my thoughts. There's only one person I love, and she is Arya.

"No, we can't be late. And I still need to help you pick your outfit and do your makeup."

Thirty minutes later, I'm dressed in an awful strappy cropped-sweater and skinny jeans that cut off my circulation. My hair is curled, my eyelashes are mascara-ed, and my lips are glossed. "Could you stop slouching?" Mom growls.

We walk to the Deerby's place, which is one of the larger houses, much like Arya's wealth class. Before we reach their house, Mom rushedly instructs me: "Act natural, say hi to Byron, don't say anything that sounds smart, and don't, most definitely don't say anything that would seem like you don't completely love him. Compliment him. If you disappoint me, you know what I will do."

I stare pointedly at her bright red lips. She's right; I know what she will do. She will take away my saxophone, because it's the only thing I have left. I technically don't have my roaming-around-New-York privileges. It's just that Sam's accident has really threw us off.

I have to do it. I have to do it right. I blink hard and step onto the Deerby's porch.

"Okay, ring the doorbell," she instructs as she starts a video with her camera on her shoulder.

I ring it compliantly. Less than a minute later, Wanda opens the door. Initially she frowns, but she quickly contrives a wide smile. "Hi Alie!" she says. 

Author's Note: Byron again, huh? How do you like Byron as a character? There will be a bonus update on Wednesday to make up for this chapter (as it is on the shorter side). But you will be excited to read the next chapter (from an exciting view point).

Please be sure to vote. If you vote, it will help the story be seen by more people.

Please comment to let me know what you dislike about this chapter (or the book in general). All comments are welcomed. I read and reply to all comments.

-Tara