Page 101 of There's No Us Without You
Mum blinks at me, a slight twitch in her top lip. “Emerson Grant de Silva, what has gotten into you tonight? We go to all this effort to make a lovely dinner, and all we get is this ungratefulness.” Mum sniffs and dabs at her eyes with her napkin.
Dammit. I’m a total prick.
“It’s fine, Mum,” I say, smiling as best I can. “I’m sorry, okay? Training has been full on. I’m just tired.” My cheeks spasm the longer I hold my face in this position, so when my mum removes her focus from my face, I let it drop.
“Well, eat up then, sweetheart,” she says, nodding to my plate. “You’ll need all your strength for finals.” She smiles at me as though everything is fine, and we weren’t just arguing.
It’s not fucking fine, though.
Dad only nods, his eyes darting to my mother before he continues eating.
Sighing, I pull my plate back over and pick up my fork to pierce through a piece of fish, then scoop up some of the rice. My stomach churns when I shove it into my mouth and chew, but I manage to swallow down the mouthful with the help of some water.
After finishing dinner in silence, Dad motions for me to follow him into the lounge room while Mum finishes up in the kitchen. It’s the only time I ever get my dad alone. Without my mother here to take over the conversation, the chatter in my head subsides, if only slightly.
As much as I love her, I sometimes wish she wasn’t so overbearing and overprotective. Ever since I was born, she’sfussed about, practically having my life planned out for me. Not once has she asked me what I want.
Dad falls into the single recliner in the corner of the lounge room and rubs his hands up and down his thighs.
I fall into the three-seater and stretch out my injured leg. I’m not in pain, which is great, but I have noticed some swelling. I’ll ice it later when I don’t have a thousand eyeballs scrutinising my every move.
The first test was last night’s game. We won again, three goals to one, which keeps us up the top of the ladder. The best part was I was pain free and could move around the field with so much more ease, I forgot about my injury until the pain meds wore off at 3 a.m. this morning. Then I was scrambling to get my fix.
Dad clears his throat and drops his forearms to the armrests, his hands curling over the ends. “Son?”
“Yeah?”
Dark eyes search mine, the face holding them similar to my own, only more distinguished. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
My father is a fair man, much better than I’ll ever be. If only he had the balls to stand up to my mother, I’m sure she’d respect him more.
Licking my lips, I nod. “I’m fine, Dad. Just tired, like I said.”
Glancing quickly behind him to make sure we aren’t being eavesdropped on, he leans over the arm of the chair. “If there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here for you. I know your mother is hard sometimes, but she just wants what’s best for you. She’s had plans for you since before you were born.” His accompanying smile is proud. “Think she knew you’d be a superstar.”
Jesus. Don’t I know it.
“You don’t need to worry,” I say, reaching over to pat his leg closest to me. “Everything is fine.”
Fine.
Fine.
Fucking fine.
The word is becoming meaningless at this point. I’m like a broken record, speaking that same word repeatedly until eventually it burns out and dies, never to play again.
Dad sighs and sinks back into his recliner. “Well, okay then.” With the remote control in his hand, he aims it at the TV. “How about a movie?”
“Sounds great, Dad.”
At least my parents give a shit, I guess. I only have to look at the people I love to know I could have ended up with a lot worse.
Like Will—or Eden—for example.
When I pullinto the driveway later that night, I can’t bring myself to climb from the car just yet.
Will’s car isn’t in the driveway. In fact, I haven’t seen him much since Friday. I know I need to be there for him, especially now that Tyler has miraculously appeared back in his life, but trying to keep everything inside just hurts even more when I’m around him.
