and then you left // cth

chapter 7: silence

luke

"Luke! If you don't want to starve or disappoint your mother you will come downstairs now!" my mum's voice shakes the entire house. I've been on the phone with Mike, and she's been calling me for an hour to come downstairs for dinner. Her tone tells me that if I don't get down there soon, she will wack me with a wooden spoon or something. Or better yet, kick me out of the house altogether.

"Mike?" I speak into the phone, giving in to my mum.

"Yeah? Oh wait, do you wanna practice tonight for both you and me were late last time, and Cal was a no-show?" It turns out I wasn't the only one who forgot about band practice yesterday. Calum just ditched it all together, without an excuse of any kind. No text, call, nothing. None of us have heard from him in days. Usually his absence would worry me, but lately, it's been more like him to not respond.

I can't remember a time when I could count on him, a time when he didn't place a brick wall between him and anyone who cared even remotely about his well being.

"Yeah sure. Come over in half an hour." I tell Michael.

"Okay, I'll tell the guys. Now go eat dinner with your mum," he says confidently.

"How'd you-"

"I could hear your mom's voice through the phone. We live a good distance apart Luke, but I think someone across the world could probably her with ease." He tells me, and I laugh. We hang up and I slip my phone into my pocket before swinging my door open and running down the stairs, taking them two before meeting my fate with my displeased mother.

Mum is sitting at the dinner table, a plate of pasta in front of her, hands folded in front of her, and a death glare on her face.

"It took you long enough," she mutters with annoyance as I sat down. I pick up my fork and dig in, suddenly starved.

"Sorry. I was talking to Michael." I explain as I take a bite. She nods and begins eating. Sometimes I think she lets me off easy in times like this because she is thankful that I have my friends to count on, friends that she likes. And after housing Calum for a few months, she's probably grateful that I'm still somewhat sane.

We sit in silence for a while, per usual. There's only so much you can discuss with your mother over fettuccine alfredo. Her and I are closer than most teenaged sons are to their mothers, I suppose. But lately it seems I've been cutting her out more and more, as I grow older. It's nothing I'm proud of, but in a sense I want to keep her thinking that I'm still the perfect little boy she raised, though I'm far from it. If I filled her in on all of my arising problems, and those of my friend's, I worry she'll begin to look at me differently. For now, I'd rather her believe I'm still the innocent doe eyed boy she had come to love.

"Oh, the guys are gonna come over after dinner to practice. That okay?" I ask after a few moments. Mum nods.

"That's fine. Just don't stay up too late."

About a year ago, when we started the band, Mum had these soundproof barriers installed in the basement, so that we could practice until the wee hours of the morning without the house being shaken with the vibrations of Ashton's drum kit. My mum especially always been accepting of the band. I think she realizes how much it means to me and how serious we are about music.