“Mom,” Olivia speaks up. “This is Bronx, a classmate of mine. He’s going to be joining us for dinner.”
“Oh, lovely.” Her mother lights up. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Monica,” she introduces herself with a friendly smile.
“You as well,” I say.
Her gaze flicks over to Olivia and a flash of worry sparks in her eyes. “Olivia, aren’t you supposed to be meeting with Cora?” she asks, looking at her watch.
“Mom, it’s Monday,” Olivia says blandly, but there’s humor dancing behind her eyes.
“Oh, goodness me,” her mother says, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, my head is—” She flails her hand above her head with a tired huff. “It is Monday.” She laughs. “You’ll have to excuse my jumbled brain.”
After her mother washes up, we all sit down for a nice dinner where I end up going in for seconds because the lasagna is just that good. I even stay after to help Olivia do the dishes and sit around with her and her family in the living room.
I don’t leave until after nine thirty, surprised at how much fun I had sitting and watching the local news with them, something I haven’t done in forever. I can’t even remember the last time I felt like I was in a real home, enjoying other people’s company.
Their house is so warm and inviting, and their family dynamic is unlike any other. I can tell they’re not putting on a show for appearances or to impress others. They’re just genuinely a down-to-earth, wholesome family. And damn did it feel good to be a part of it for just a moment.
I’ve been in many houses—“homes”—throughout my life. Being in foster care, I was passed from home to home, no one willing to stick with me for the long run. But I guess that was partially my fault. I was an angry, unpleasant kid who didn’t necessarily make it easy for my foster parents. I was too consumed with being angry about not having my real mother care for me that I didn’t necessarily appreciate what others were trying to give to me. Regardless, they tossed me to the side when they got the chance, and no place I entered ever felt like a real home. They always felt a bit staged.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say to Olivia’s parents before I head for the front door. “Thank you for letting me stay for dinner.”
“It was no problem.” Her mother beams, walking up to me with her arms stretched wide then wrapping them around me in a hug. “Come back over any time you like.”
I momentarily freeze, not used to being hugged like that. I wasn’t necessarily expecting the gesture, but I guess I should have been, considering how kind her family is.
“Thank you,” I repeat, managing to reciprocate.
“It was nice meeting you.” Her father steps up to me, shaking my hand and patting my shoulder.
“Likewise.”
I look over at Olivia and she smiles. “I’ll walk you out.”
With one final goodbye to her parents, I make sure to grab the lab manual before I head out the front door with Olivia. She walks me over to Chase’s truck in the driveway, and I lean against the hood, facing her. “Thank you for tonight.”
“It’s no problem. I hope my parents weren’t too much.” She slightly cringes.
I laugh. “Not at all, they were great. So was the lasagna.”
“Glad you thought so. Dad really prides himself on that.”
“As he should,” I state.
A short but comfortable silence lingers around us, and I find myself not wanting to leave.
“I hope your mom was serious about that offer, about coming back over sometime,” I say after a while.
A soft smile graces her lips. “Anytime.”
I smile, pushing off the hood of the car. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I scuff the bottom of my right shoe over the concrete of her driveway a few times before walking backward to the driver’s-side door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” she confirms, and I hop into the truck, roaring the engine to life before reluctantly backing out of her driveway.
Seven
Leftovers
I make my way to the science building for our anatomy lecture nearly twenty minutes early so I can secure my seat next to Olivia, because I know Rat Boy will try his hardest to make it to class before me and take my seat. I’m relieved when I walk into the large lecture hall and hardly anyone is there, only a handful of people.
