While We're Young (Marianas Trench)

Chapter 9

"We're just on our way now, mom. We should be there in ten minutes." I reassure my mother on the phone. Josh is driving and I see the exit sign we need, "change lanes!" I say with the phone still on my ear.

"Alright, see you soon sweetheart. And don't be so hard on your friend, they've never been to our house before." My mom scolds. I roll my eyes, glad she can't see me. I haven't told her who I'm bringing with me, I don't want what happened last time to happen again.

"Ciao, mother." I say, hanging up my phone and looking at Josh. "You're in for a wild ride . . . " I sigh.

"What are we talking? Devil horns and pitchforks?" Josh teases, pulling onto the side of the road. He sees how stressed out I am, I'm prepared for a pep talk. "Tell me, have you ever brought a boyfriend to your parents' house?"

"Once. It's the reason I left." My lip twitches to the side and I look down at my knees.

"What happened?"

"I brought my boyfriend home for dinner. He was an idiot, and I never saw it. He was also from a family of 'lesser class' as my parents put it. He didn't have any ambition, but I liked that because he never pushed me to do anything. Obviously, I've changed since then . . . Anyways, I wanted to move out and get an apartment with him, my parents didn't approve. So, when they said no, I said I'd never talk to them again, packed up my stuff and left."

"What happened to the guy?" Josh asks, putting the car back into drive.

"I have no idea. He's probably still living on his parents' couch doing nothing." Josh glances at me as he drives down a side street towards my parents' house.

"I'm not him, we'll be fine. What's not to love about me?" He smiles, turning down my parents' street. "Which house?"

"That one," I point at the large, white house in the middle of the cul-de-sac. It stands out like a sore thumb, sitting on a street of ordinary two story brick houses, it's four stories with tall pillars on the front porch and three garages.

"Wow, they really, um, know how to," Josh struggles for words to describe the house.

"One up the neighbourhood? Yeah, I know." I snort, getting out of the car when Josh parks. I wait for him and he extends his hand.

"It's now or never," he smiles, taking my hand and walking me up to the door. I knock and Harriet answers, her sweet smile welcoming to me.

"Hello, Alexis!" She beams. "Oh, who's your guest?" She asks, looking at Josh, unsure of whether to be approving or disapproving.

"I'm Josh," he smiles, shaking her hand. We follow her into the sitting room where my parents are.

"Alexis!" My mother shouts, jumping up from her seat and rushing toward me. She looks up at Josh and presses a fake smile on her face. She doesn't like his hair, or the fact that his pants fit tighter than mine, I can tell that all from her face. "And who might this be?"

I drop Josh's hand and take a deep breath. "This is Josh Ramsay, my boyfriend." He goes to shake her hand, but I shake my head slightly. My parents don't do hand shakes.

"Hello," he shuffles his feet awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. My mother, still smiling, ushers us to take a seat.

"So, Josh, what do you do for a living?" My dad asks. Oh, here we go . . .

"James!" My mother exclaims. "You'll have to excuse him, he's not used to visitors." She presses her lips together, perching herself on the edge of the frilly couch. "Josh, how did you meet Alexis?"

Josh turns to me, wondering if he should tell the truth. I nod. They appreciate the truth, even if it's not the most ideal. "Well, it was after my last concert and my band was doing a meet and greet. Alexis wandered in, one of the few dressed in 80s attire, which was the theme of the night. She really wanted nothing to do with me, but I made a bargain she couldn't refuse . . . "

My father's eyebrows raise and he folds his hands in his lap. "And what would that bargain be?" He asks.

"He wanted to prove me wrong, that's all." I say quickly. "I thought he was a jerk, so he gave me his number in order to show me he wasn't."

"I see," he nods, "and what is this band of yours?"

"Oh, it's called Marianas Trench, you've probably heard us on the radio—"

"Dinner is ready," Harriet interrupts, then looks sheepishly at Josh. "My apologies, carry on." My parents follow Harriet to the dining room and I pull Josh back before he can too.

"It's okay to tell them about your life, but be careful. They're a bit skeptical about the fact that you're in a band." He smirks, holding my chin in his hand.

"It's cute that you're worried about me, but I've got this." He kisses my cheek swiftly and drags me into the dining room.

"Are you two alright?" My mom asks as we walk in.

"Of course, I was just showing Josh the way to the washroom." I lie, sitting at the table. Josh sits beside me and touches my knee under the table, comforting me.

"You have a beautiful house." Josh remarks. I know what he's doing: trying to change the subject so they don't suspect anything.

"Thank you, Josh." My mother smiles, passing the potatoes to me. "What were you saying earlier about being in a famous band? You must have a sizable house as well?" Are you kidding me? Just because he has money doesn't mean he uses it to buy a house, especially not one like my parents'.

"Oh, no. I live in an apartment." He laughs, sloshing some potatoes onto his plate. My mom's eyes go wide and she looks at me in astonishment. She can't comprehend the thought of someone with high status living in something like an apartment.

"It's a penthouse, with a roof patio and gorgeous furniture." I chime in. All I want to do is leave now, but we're in the middle of supper. It's rude to leave during a meal, so I swallow my annoyance and take a bite of food.

"Is that right?" My dad acknowledges. "I'd like to see it sometime, I've never been to a penthouse." I look at Josh with fear in my eyes. Disengage!

"I don't know if that's such a great idea, I mean I've only been there twice and Josh and I aren't serious yet . . . " I trail off, trying to find excuses for them not to come. Josh smirks at me and mouths, 'yet?'

"Besides," he adds, "It's not nearly as nice as your place. I'm rarely ever home, so I see no reason in having much."

"So you're a minimalist." My father says, taking a swig of water. From my family's point of view, minimalism is another word for poor. I narrow my eyes at my dad, challenging him to say another word. He clears his throat to add, but I cut him off. Something inside me has snapped.

"Stop!" I yell, unable to stand the false niceties my parents are laying on Josh and me. "Just stop. Josh isn't a bad guy, if you look inside him instead of on the surface. He has depth, he's not shallow, like some people . . . He is a famous rock star, which might pose a threat later when he goes on tour, but we can live through it. He isn't Steve Brooks, so you can lay off. If you have an issue, I don't really care because I brought Josh here, not for your approval, but to prove that I have changed. If you haven't, that's not my problem anymore. I love you guys, but Jesus, stop being so fucking judgemental!"

Everyone goes silent, their faces shocked. Josh rubs my thigh under the table and I turn to look at him. "Are you alright? Do you want me to take you home?" I glance at my parents' faces and bite my lip.

"Thank you for dinner, but I think we've over stayed our welcome. Have a good night." I say, standing up and walking straight out the door, not stopping until I reach the car.