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For maybe the first time since he got the fucking phone three years ago, I'm glad that he would rather text with his friends than talk to me. I shovel another spoonful of cereal into my mouth and stare at the TV screen. I don't even know what I'm watching right now. Is this a documentary or a home improvement show? Maybe it's a crime drama? I'm not really sure why we’re crawling through the basement of this rundown house in the woods.
"Wait…you broke up with Luna?"
Brady's shocked question jerks my attention to him again.
I frown. "How do you know that?"
“Lydia's at the bakery with Luna. Dani’s there, too. So are Alexsei and Cam and Crew. Everybody's pissed at you."
Well, so much for keeping this all from Crew.
My chest feels tight thinking about them all, though.
I miss them.
And not just Luna.
Though the thought of her makes me feel like someone has a fist around my heart, squeezing hard. I can’t breathe, it’s not beating right, and…I don’t care about it beating again if I’m not going to see her, anyway.
Yes, I’m aware that’s all very dramatic. I live with a teenager.
I hate the idea that Luna's pissed at me. But I would rather she be pissed than hurt.
But I do hate the idea that Cam and Alexsei are mad at me.
I mean, I'm not surprised. Obviously they are. I'd be pissed at them if they had done this to Luna.
But now Lydia and Dani and Crew are all involved, too?
Of course they are. Everyone loves Luna. As they should.
"Dad, what did you do?"
"Nothing.” Then I sigh. He’s not going to let it go if I keep that up. “The right thing. I stepped aside so she can date Alexsei and Cam.”
“I guess…”
I look up to find Brady rubbing the back of his neck, looking a little uncomfortable.
Then he sighs. “I thought you were all dating each other.”
I shrug. “She doesn't need me."
"You're jealous of Alexsei and Cam?"
I look up at him. "Don't worry about it. Don’t you need to go somewhere?"
My son gives me a really? look. The same one I’ve given to him about four million times in his life. Then he shrugs out of his jacket, tosses it on the chair, and comes over to sit on the edge of the coffee table, blocking my view of the television. He takes my bowl out of my hands and sets it on the table next to him. Then he leans forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs and levels me with a serious look. "What is going on?"
I'm shocked by the role reversal for a moment. I just blink at him.
"I swear to God, Dad. If this is some kind of homophobic thing, we are going to have a long talk.”
"Why do people keep thinking that’s my problem?”
"Why else would you walk away?"
Okay, maybe that’s a fair point. “I like the guys a lot,” I say. “If I was gay, I’d totally go for one of them. Hell, I'd be flattered if Cam gave me a second look."
