Affection // irwin

Chapter 7

I look at the clock. 7.30 am. I sigh. Why do I always wake up early on weekends? Why can’t I just sleep through the day like a normal teenager? I would do anything to wake up at 11 and have lunch instead of breakfast. But no. Both my parents are morning persons so, I guess I inherited it from them.

“You’re up early. I didn’t hear you come in last night. Did you have fun?” Mom says the minute I enter the kitchen. Dad’s sitting by the table reading the newspaper.

It’s not early mom. This is normal for me.

“Yeah, I had a great time,” I lie, not wanting to tell them what exactly happened. I’m still processing it myself.

“I’m glad, honey. It’s good for you,” mom smiles and sits down next to dad. She puts the coffee mug on the table and looks up at me. “You can invite them anytime you want. You can order take-out and rent some movies. Maybe…”

Dad puts his hand on mom’s arm and squeezes it gently.

“Sorry. I just…I mean, you had a tough time before moving here and I’m just really glad…”

“Mom, I’m fine!” I raise my voice before exiting the room. Why did she always have to bring that up?

“Go easy on her, Juliet. You know how sensitive she is. She’ll come around,” Dad’s voice is low but I can still hear him as I reach the stairs.

“I know, Mark, I just…”

Oh, dad. What would I have done without you? I know I never say thank you, so thank you, even though you can’t read my mind, for calming mom down. I wouldn’t be able to live alone with her, and only her. She would suffocate me. I know she only wants me to be happy but she always brings up the past just when I’ve made a step forward in letting go and moving on. 

Sometimes I wish I was my brother Adam instead. He’s only 11 but his life seems so much easier than mine. I know it is. He got friends the first day we moved in and mom and dad, are letting him live his life, if you can say that an 11-year old has a life. But, he sure is a pain in the ass sometimes; stealing my things and lying to me.

Back in America he always blamed me when he was guilty of something. Like one time, 4 years ago, he was throwing a football through the hallway and accidently knocked down a vase, that mom inherited from a great aunt. It shattered into a million pieces. Adam freaked and started crying, so I cleaned it up, told him it would all be okay. When mom came home from work, he told her I was the one who knocked it down…and that I did it on purpose. Of course mom started yelling and there he was; standing behind her with a smirk on his face, almost laughing. And it was hard to believe he had cried just 20 minutes earlier. I tried telling mom what really happened, but she refused to listen, told me I was just seeking attention. And that was when I realized she didn’t really care about me. But, I have to take those words back. She does care. A little too much sometimes.

I start my phone and see I have 1 new message.

*Are you okay?*

Ashton. I throw the phone back on the bed, not sure what to reply. The phone vibrates again.

*I think we should talk. Do you wanna meet up?*

I look at the clock again. It’s not even 8. What is he doing up this early?

*Sure. Where?*

The reply comes right after I click the sent button. Damn he’s fast.

*Do you wanna get some breakfast?*

I am actually quite hungry, I realize. I never got the chance to take any breakfast because of mom and her big mouth.

*Sure. Where?*