The Story About How My Imaginary Friend Died

Chapter Thirty-One - Why You Should Always Be Polite

I woke up, determined to change mom's mind. Sending Toyota downstairs to cheer mom up, giving him strict orders, I waited at the door for a few moments before walking down.

As I reached the kitchen, I saw mom sitting at the table, eating breakfast.

"Hi mom, I was--"

"You're not going, Emma," she said.

I gaped. "Are you serious?"

She looked at me. "Yes, very, Emma. It is final."

I shook my head looking at the floor.

I could sense mom retrieving her attention to the breakfast at hand, like she was done with me and this discussion. Like I was done worth this discussion.

However, I wasn't. I wasn't remotely done with it.

"Mom, could you please put yourself in my shoes for a moment?"

Mom sighed. "I told you, Emma; I am sorry, but the decision is taken."

"But it... it isn't your decision to make!"

She furrowed her brows. "Why are you being this difficult?"

"Because... Do you know have much and hard I've worked on this!"

"Emma--"

"NO!"
"Don't shout."
"Then you better elaborate or at least hear me out!"

Mom didn't say anything, nor did she indicate for me to continue. I racked my brain for something to tell her... Something that would make her see.

And I had it. "om, can't you tell how much Tim and Katja has done for me, though?" She didn't respond. "I mean... you practically stated it yourself; I am happy."

She looked up then, and I took the opportunity. to keep going. "I finally have met some people I enjoy spending time with, and I am not sure you have actual reasoning to hate them."

There was a silence.

A long one.

"I don't hate the," mom said at last. "And... I suppose..."

I furrowed my brows as I waited for her to continue.

"I suppose we could bring your Father there... he'd like to see or himself what you've been up to."

My chest lightened, the lump that had started to form in my throat disappeared at once.

Mom didn't look very happy as she sat at the table. It was Thursday—the Thursday the same week as the competition.

In two days, we'd leave.

"What is going on, mom?" I said as I walked through the door.

"Your father is joining for the competition, and so am I..."

I furrowed my brows. "Why are you looking so sad, then?"

Mom cringed. "I'm not sad, it's just..." She turned to face me. "You do realise I have to meet their parents, right?"

I was about to tell her she didn't, but she kept going before I could say anything. "And... I don't think they're very good people."

I tilted my head. "Are they still ruining the business?"

She nodded. "Yeah, they are, but it's not as bad as it was... I still don't like them, and I have no desire to meet them."

I decided it was time to relieve her. "You don't have to meet them."

Her head snapped to look at me. "What are you talking about? They're coming. I certainly have to see them."

I shook my head. "No, they aren't coming."

A crease formed on mom's forehead. "But... If I didn't understand it wrong... Weren't the whole point of this for Tim and Katja to show that they're serious?"

I shook my head. "I guess that the gesture of going there by themselves probably is enough."

Mom raised her eyebrows. "But... Aren't they going to support their children?"

Her face had a look. A look that I'd never seen before. I would've described it as smug.

"I am gonna go now," I said slowly, 'cause she was starting to freak me out. "But... Thank you."

She smiled absentmindedly.

I walked away, shaking my head.