Turn Around (Conor Maynard)

Chapter 12

Singing normally calms any of my nerves, but not today. I sang anyway, pushing the vaccum back and forth. I liked it this way, because only I could hear my voice. Mum walked past me, having changed out of her pyjamas. She smiled and me, motioning for me to turn the vaccum off.

"I really like the sound of your voice." Then she smiled again, and walked out of the room. I fliushed in spite mf myself. So she had heard. I turned the vaccum back on, pushing it back and forth once again. I didn't continue sinbging though, knowing that someone else had heard could be enough to sshut me up for years. Vasccuming was therapudic, it helped calm my nerves. It occupied my mind. I heard Mum run down the hall, but no doorbell. Maybe it was a practice run. I turned the vaccum off, unplugging it, and moving it to stand along the far wall. I turned around to walk down the hall and find Mum when I stopped. Standing at the very edge of my kitchen was Conor. It wasn't the fact that he was here, it was still the fact thgis I was that had shicked me into silence.

He took o his sunnies, looking at me as he shoved me into the front pocket of his jeans. "Didn't you know I was coming?"

I composed myself before speaking. "Yes, I did. How are you?"

He shugged off his jacket, dumping it on the bench. "Fine."

So the attitude had returned. "Good. Would you like us to show you around?"

He shrugged again, clearly not fussed either way, whichever outcome it was. I walked past him, towards the spare room. He followed me, hands in his pockets. I slowed down, so we were at the same even pace.

"so where we just were was the kitchen, and the next room connectingto it was the lounge."

We had reached the back door, and I opened it, allowing him to walk through before myself. "This is the backyard." Clare jumped up, running towards us. She did 3 laps before paying close attention to Conor, jumping up and reaching onto his knees. "Oh sorry, this is Clare. She's a little excited." She continued to run circles around him, her tiny tail wagging excitedely at the prospect of a new friend.

Conor bobbed down, scratching my Maltese behind her one black ear. "It's fine, I like dogs."

Before I could say anything else, he stood up, dusting himself off. He looked at me expectantly. I threw Clare a toy, serving as nothing spectacular compared to Conor, and walked back the way we had come.

"The bathroom..." I paused, allowing him time to open and shut the door before moving on. He was being so rude, so i decided that until he talked nicely, I would be abrupt with him. Just as a trial.

"Mum and Dad's." I showed him in, and he looked around, taking in the many photos being displayed. Conor walked over to the chest of drawers, picking up a white glossy frame. I followed him. He was looking at a photo of me when I was very young. I was quick to replace the photo to where it had come from. When I did so, however, my fingers touched his by accident, and in a nanosecond, he had taken a hasy step away from me, rubbing his hand. I guess that he didn't want peasants like me to touch him, and itr was fair enough.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, looking at the floor. When I looked up, he was looking at his hand in disgust.

"Whatever." He walked out, and I followed, sighing as I shut the door behind me.

"My room." I walked straight past, not wanting t show him just yet. zi had reached the end of the hall, and I turned to face him.

"And your room." I pushed the door open. Conor walked straight in, and turned around to face me. 

"Laters." With that, he shut the door in my face, leaving me staring at a white glaze in confusion.

*

The tantalizing smell of a cassarolle wafted through the house. Mumn's specialty, and my favourite. Tonight it was beef.

Mum took off her oven mits, calling me over. "Please get Conor, it's done." She turned back to Dad, continuing their conversation.

I walked down the hall, stopping at the last door. I knocked, and waited. Nothing. I knocked, and waited more. No answer. He must be in the bathroom I walked through the lounge to find Conor staring transfixed at our family photo. He looked at it as though he were looking at an optical illusion, as though he were trying to interpret some secret code that was being kept from him.

"Conor, differ's ready."

"Hm? Oh, right..." He walked past me, sitting down at the kitchen table. I took one last look before scurrying off to join him.