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And sure enough, they’d gotten into a garbage can in the hallway bathroom, one of them eating a tissue. It hangs from his jowls, and I roll my eyes toward the ceiling.
“I swear to god, Tomas. I will never own a dog. They are disgusting. They eat boogers.”
“I’m sure you did too when you were younger.”
I sniff and shake my head. “Never. I was far too civilized for that.”
Tomas rolls his eyes and smirks at me. “I had a booger wall.”
“You did not!” I squeal, and Tomas starts to laugh, making me giggle even harder. “That is disgusting.”
“Come on, every kid does it.”
“I never did.”
“Yeah? Call your parents and ask.”
I roll my eyes again, taking a long sip of my drink and pulling out my phone. “Fine. I’ll call and you’ll see that Ineverpicked my nose.”
I hit my mom’s number, realizing that I haven’t spoken with her in months and now I’m calling to ask her about boogers. Oh well. It is what it is.
“Damon?” my mom’s familiar voice says over the phone. She doesn’t sound happy to hear from me, but then again, she always was hard to read. I never really understood where I got my personality from. Both of my parents are very boring.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Are you alright?” she asks, and I peer up at Tomas who is still sipping on his drink.
“I’m fine, just calling to ask a very important question.”
My mom doesn’t answer, just waits for me to go on. “Did I have a booger wall growing up or something similar?”
My mom huffs out a surprised laugh. God, I haven’t heard her laugh in ages.
“I haven’t spoken to you in months and this is why you call?”
“It’s a very important question, Mom.”
She sighs and then chuckles again. “You had not only a booger wall, but a booger hallway.”
I gasp and stare at Tomas who has pomegranate martini coming out of his nose. Well, this isn’t funny. This is horrifying.
“That is a lie,Mother.”
“I can’t lie. That’s a sin.”
I gasp and then stand up, walking to the other side of the room and whispering, “You couldn’t have just told a small fib?”
My mom laughs again and then sighs. “I’m sorry, Damon, but I can’t.”
“Fine.”
She hesitates a moment, and I wonder if she hung up on me.
“I miss you,” she says softly, and then adds, “And so does Dad.”
My heart clenches and I nod, whispering that I’ll visit soon, even though that’s not entirely true. I’m not sure I will. I love them, but they don’t really like who I am, and I hate being something I’m not when I go home. I hate having to pretend. It’s why I avoid them like the plague. A booger plague.
“I love you,” I say, and my mom tells me she loves me too before we hang up. Tomas is eyeing me from his seat in the kitchen, and I avoid his gaze.
