Page 44 of Damaged Boys Don't Fall For Bubbly Girls
But I’d better get out of bed before Mom or Dad worry about me. They’ve actually been treating me like normal for the most part, although I do catch some looks here and there.
After getting ready, I go downstairs and find Mom and Dad on the couch, watching a movie. Mom’s snuggled in Dad’s arms and she looks like she’s in heaven. I’ve missed seeing just how much they love each other. I want to do that with a girl one day. A specific girl, but I won’t think about her right now.
But can I? Will I ever be good enough for her? Do I even deserve her?
I shake my head to rid the thoughts. I told myself I don’t want to feel sorry for myself anymore.
Mom sits up and smiles at me. “Good morning, lazy bones.”
Dad peers at the clock on the wall. “Did you oversleep because you were up all night reading my masterpiece?”
I chuckle. “I did read it before bed, but no. I was, uh, thinking about stuff.”
They look at me expectantly.
“What?” I ask.
“What kind of stuff?” Mom prods.
“Geez, it’s personal.”
Dad and Mom exchange a look. Dad lifts a brow as he focuses on me. “Like…a girl?”
From the expressions on their faces, it’s obvious what girl they suspect.
“No, not a girl,” I lie. “Just stuff.”
“All right,” Dad says. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but remember that we’re here for you. Always.”
I nod. “I know. Thanks.”
“Of course, sweetie,” Mom says. “I left you some waffles in the kitchen.”
“Okay.” I turn to go.
“Brock? Your mom and I are going out on our bikes soon. You’re good here all by yourself?”
I face them. “Yeah. I’ll probably get some homework done and finish up your book, Dad.”
“Great. Also, Zoey called about an hour ago. She wanted to talk to you, too, but you were sleeping. You should call her.”
“Okay.”
My parents leave as I bite into the awesome waffles, telling me they won’t be out long. But I reassure them to take as much time as they need because I’ll be fine here by myself. Then I wash my dishes, go to my room, and start a video call with my sister.
She answers with a bright smile. “Hey, little bro.”
“Hey, Zo.”
Her brown eyes narrow as she studies me. “Did your bangs get longer since the last time we spoke?”
“Considering it’s only been a week, probably not.”
She laughs, pushing some sandy brown hair over her shoulder. “How are you doing?”
I shrug. “Fine. How’s college?”
She’s a freshman at a college that’s pretty far away and she’s studying business and finance. She wants to work at Mom’s charity after she graduates.
