AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I cheated on Peter,” I said in case she had forgotten what had happened. “Andhethinks I’m a piece of shit.”
Laughing a little morosely, she replied, “I know, and obviously, I don’t think cheating is the right thing to do. But …” She shrugged, then said, “Things aren’t always black and white, you know? I don’t think you’re a bad person for what you did regardless of what Peter thinks. He’s upset, and you’re confused. Really, you’re both just being human.”
How she could be merciful at a time like this was beyond me, but it was appreciated. And she was right about one thing: I was confused. And although it didn’t help any, what she had said lessened the weight resting on my heart just a little.
With a quick hug over the center console, I thanked her profusely for picking me up, then attempted to slip into the house, unnoticed. But the door hinges needed to be oiled, and the floorboards creaked. I was inside for less than three minutes when the hall light clicked on, and there was Mom in her old, flannel bathrobe.
“Lennon?” she asked, voice groggy and eyes barely open. “What are you doing here? Everything okay?”
Swiftly making the decision to avoid the truth, I replied, “Yeah, everything’s fine. Peter and I just got into a stupid fight.”
Slut.
“About what?” she asked warily, the clarity working its way into her tone.
“Nothing. It’s no big deal,” I lied in an attempt to make a quick getaway to my room. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
She wasn’t convinced as she stepped into the gentle glow of a single lamp she kept on at night in the living room. Her narrowed eyes were skeptical, staring at me with warranted concern.
“Are you sure?”
I assured her with a weak nod. “Yeah, Mom. Don’t worry. It’s just been a really long night, and all I want to do is sleep.”
She continued to study me for a second before reluctantly nodding. “Okay,” she finally said wearily. “We’ll talk later.”
“Yeah, we will,” I easily agreed, knowing I wouldn't be able to keep my sins a secret for long.
***
After tossing and turning for a few hours before falling into a deeper sleep, I was thrilled to wake up in my own bed.
I hadn't lived at Peter's condo for long, only a couple of weeks. But during that short time, I had found I didn't care much to be on my own. Not without the freedom to get in a car and leave whenever I wanted. I realized it was an adjustment to get used to a change like that, and maybe it would've been fine in time had we been given the chance. But that didn't stop the shameful happiness from tugging at my lips as I ran down the stairs to find something to eat.
“Hey, Lennon. There're fresh cold cuts in the drawer,” Dad said from the table as I threw the fridge door open.
“Oh, great,” I said with approval, pulling the drawer open to find Ziploc bags full of Virginia ham and turkey breast. “Do we have any bread that isn't growing mold?”
From beside Dad, Mom shook her head. “The bread doesn't have mold,” she grumbled, her voice lilting toward amusement.
“Are you sure?” I asked, dropping the bags of sliced meat on the island before searching for the loaf of white bread we usually kept on the counter.
“I just checked it this morning.”
Finding the bag, I peered closely at the Sell By date. “Hmm, okay,” I muttered. “We have three days left on it.”
“It's fine,” Dad assured me.
“Yeah, for three days,” I replied pointedly.
My anxiety over expiration dates drove my parents crazy, but I knew they understood. I knew those dates were only a suggestion in most cases, but I also couldn't see if food was growing mold or going bad. So, what would be a suggestion for most people was a cutoff for me, just to be safe.
The sandwich I made was thin and sorry-looking with only a few slices of meat between the two flattened pieces of dry bread, barren of any condiments. But it was exactly how I liked it, and after putting everything away, I carried the paper plate to the table and sat across from Mom and Dad.
The intention was to eat the sandwich and head back up to my room. The plan was to keep my mind off Peter or Dylan or anybody else of the opposite sex for the day and to instead focus on researching cover designers and advertisement for self-published books.
The plan never included Dad asking the question I should've expected someone to ask.
He looked up from the mail he was sifting through and said, “What's Peter up to today?”
