one of the boys » david dobrik au

twenty

"You going home for Thanksgiving?" David snuck into my room to ask me the question. We were the last two roommates left. Jeff was on his way to New York by Friday, and Zane was on a flight to Florida early Sunday morning.

Despite the fact that me and my moms were getting closer, I had spent all summer crying in my childhood bedroom. I was scared that being home for too long would just bring bad memories. I chose not to leave until Tuesday afternoon, meaning I'd only have to deal with a few days before driving back.

"Yeah. I'm about to leave. My moms are expecting me."

"You need help packing?" he asked.

"I'm a simple woman," I patted the small duffle bag next to me. It was Mickey Mouse printed and used to be my sleepover bag as a little kid. It was hideous and practically falling apart, but the emotional hoarder in me just couldn't let it go. "It all fits in here. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Just staying here," he tried not to look disappointed.

"You're not going home?" I tentatively asked, knowing I was stepping on a line that I wasn't sure we could cross yet. David and I were good friends—definitely too close—, but Zane had told me it took David almost two years to open up to him about his home life. I had known him since August. It wasn't looking good for me.

"Don't really have one," he shrugged, taking it upon himself to come get in my bed with me. As he continued, I was surprised he was so open about it with me considering everyone else made it seem like I'd never know. "My mom got pregnant with me when she was sixteen. I guess my dad was abusive in their relationship. I don't remember him, but... she's been on drugs ever since. She's in jail."

"Oh my god," I tried to hide my shock, not wanting to freak him out or make him feel like he couldn't tell me things. Still, curiosity killed the cat, so I hit him with the question everyone was wondering, "Can I ask why?"

"She hit someone and killed them," he told me, void of all emotion. "With her car. While she was high. So, yeah. She's in jail. Not really a fun place to spend Thanksgiving, but whatever. I don't like holidays anyway."

"I love holidays," I said.

"I know," he chuckled. "The fucking fall themed place mats on the table showed me that. Such a waste of money."

"Just wait 'til Christmas," I smirked at him. "You won't even recognize the place. Go pack."

"What?"

"Go pack," I repeated. "I'm obviously not gonna let you stay here alone. You're coming home with me."

"Camilla..."

"What? Are you homophobic? You don't want to meet my lesbian moms?" I maintained a straight face. I knew David wasn't homophobic obviously, but I needed something to guilt him into going with me. He'd feel bad if he tagged along if I didn't give him that, I just knew it.

"I'm not a fucking homophobe," he rolled his eyes, but I could see his lips curving into a smile ever so slightly. "I'd feel bad crashing your Thanksgiving. I'm fine here. I don't even like turkey."

"Neither do my parents. We order takeout from a Mexican place every year," I smiled, knowing I had caught him. "So what other excuses do I have to kill before you just say yes?"

"They're not expecting me. I don't want to change their whole plans."

I sighed and rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone and calling Mom #1, placing the call on speaker. Angie answered with a smile in her voice, "Camilla! Are you on your way here yet?"