“Good.I’ll be starting med school next year.It’s…stressful,” I admit, and she reaches over to pat my hand.
“I’m proud of you.I always have been.”
I pause, the memory of her drunken breakdown the last time I was here flashing through my mind.The shouting, the broken bottles, the way she’d screamed that we were the reason Kendra wasn’t here.She was screaming and yelling at us as she smashed every expensive drink my father owned on the floor.That night, she’d tried to end it all, reaching for a broken bottle as she raised it to her neck, only for my dad to stop her just in time.It’s a memory I’ve tried to bury, but it’s still there, clear as day.
My mom used to be so full of life, a best-selling author with a talent for creating worlds people loved.Her awards filled a separate corner in their bedroom, a testament to how great she was at what she did.But when Kendra died last year, something in her broke.She’d burned most of her awards, her books, as if destroying them could somehow erase the memories.What little we saved is hidden in the basement.
Kendra was her favorite.She never said it outright, but we all knew.
After she was gone, the house felt like a graveyard.Miserable.Quiet.Wrong.
So yeah—for a long time, staying at my apartment was the only thing keeping me sane.Being home meant watching my mom self-destruct and pretending my dad gave a shit.
“Mom…how have you really been?”I ask, my voice softer, almost hesitant.
“I’ve been doing well.Better, actually,” my mom says, a spark in her eyes I haven’t seen in a while.“I’ve rediscovered my love for books.I’m even working on a new one.”
“Can I see it?”I ask, smiling.
She laughs.“Of course, when I’m done.”
“Not even a sneak peek?”
“Stop whining.You’ll get a sneak peek once it’s finished—I promise.”She ruffles my hair, and I feel a strange warmth settle in my chest.
“You look good, son.Got any special girl in your life?”She raises her eyebrows in that teasing way of hers, and I chuckle.
I wish I could talk to her about Cam.He’s been on my mind day and night, but I don’t.My dad’s a blatant homophobe, and my mom, well…she’s somewhere in the middle.She doesn’t hate the idea, but she’s never been comfortable with it either.Maybe a counselor would be better for this kind of talk.
“I’m too focused on grades and soccer to worry about dating,” I say, giving her a small smile.
She shakes her head, laughing softly.Then she turns off the stove and starts serving our food.
“Sometimes, you need to take a break and find someone who makes you happy,” she says, placing a plate in front of me.“I don’t want you to end up lonely.”
“I’m not lonely,” I mutter.I’ve got soccer, med school, frat parties, and more girls than I can count who’d jump at the chance to be with me.
But is that really a life?I sigh inwardly.
“I know, Fox.But you need someone who’ll be there for you, who really understands and cares about you.Not just girls who are there for a thrill.”
If only I could tell her that the person who’s caught my interest isn’t even a girl—it’s a beautiful, blonde boy with glasses who lives across the hall in my apartment.I pick up my fork, trying to focus on the food in front of me.
“How’s your roommate?”she asks, breaking the silence.“Your father told me he arranged for you to have a freshman roommate.Said he’s a good influence—doesn’t like parties or anything.”
I sigh.“Yeah, he’s no trouble at all.”
“You two get along well?”
“Pretty well, I guess.I might’ve been a bit of an ass to him at first.I was…kinda rude.”
“Fox, really?Why?”
“He’s, um…” I hesitate.Should I tell her he’s gay?No.“He’s not too into my party habits.”
“You threw a party in the apartment?”She raises an eyebrow, smirking.
“Yeah, that was definitely a dick move,” I admit, sighing.
