Page 94 of Don't Love the Boy Next Door
As soon as I hang up, Natalie jumps into my arms. “You’re finally home! Why do you hate us so much?”
“What?” I ask as I lower her to the floor. “Who said I hate you?”
“Because you’re never home. Charlie said it’s because you hate us. Because we’re so loud and you can’t make videos.”
Guilt crashes over me like a tidal wave. I didn’t mean to hurt her or anyone else.
“I don’t hate you,” I promise. “And don’t listen to anything Charlie says. He’s going through that thing called puberty, and it makes him say and do all these crazy things that make no sense.”
“Pru—what?” she asks with wide eyes.
I laugh. “You’ll learn all about it when you’re older. Where’s Mom and Dad?”
“Mom’s in the kitchen making the yummiest stupendous cookies in the whole world! And Dad’s reading the paper in the kitchen, too.”
So that was that delicious smell. Natalie takes my hand, tugging me all the way to the kitchen, where Mom is crouched at the oven. Dad is at the table with the paper.
“Hey, Mom and Dad,” I say.
Mom closes the oven and smiles at me, though it seems strained. “Hi, Genevieve. It’s nice to see you home for a change.”
Dad nods to me.
Again, guilt chokes me. I just wish they’d understand me a little better. Then maybe I wouldn’t have the need to move out.
“Have a cookie,” Mom says, offering the tray.
“Thanks.” I take one. “I should probably eat something before I leave for the concert.”
“Are you talking about the Rock E’s?” Natalie asks with a gaping mouth. “They’resocool! I wish I could go. But Mom says I’m too young.”
“Well Mom is right,” I tell her.
“It’s nice that you acknowledge that,” she mutters.
“Mom, please don’t be upset with me. I never meant to hurt you or Dad, or any of the kids. I just…I just needed space to make my videos.”
She nods, but I know she doesn’t really get it.
I look down at Natalie. “Can I speak to Mom and Dad alone for a sec?”
She raises her chin. “I’m big enough to understand.”
“Sorry, kid, but this is something I need to talk to them alone.”
“It’s not fair,” she grumbles as she marches out of the kitchen. “Adults have so many secrets and they don’t have to tellanyone. But I’m not allowed to keep any secrets because it’s notsafefor me…”
I glance at Mom. “Can we sit?”
We settle down at the table near Dad, who closes his newspaper.
“Mom, Dad,” I say, “I’m sorry for moving in with Katie. I’ve missed all of you like crazy.”
She doesn’t say anything. He nods again.
I puff out my cheeks. “I don’t want any of this to put a strain on our relationship. I love you guys and want you to be part of my life. But sometimes—okay, all the time—I feel like you don’t see me. Or you don’t want to see me.”
“What are you talking about?” Mom asks. “Of course we see you.”
