Burnouts

I Feel the Same

Scene 1: Aaron's House

Zach Teeling

"Damn," Aaron says as he drives up to his house. "I didn't think anyone would be home."

"That's okay."

"We don't have to stay."

"No, it's fine, I'm not bothered," I shrug.

"I can introduce you as just a friend if you want."

"You can tell them I'm your boyfriend...if you want."

"Alright," he smiles.

We get out of the car, and I can tell he's a little nervous. I didn't think I'd be the first guy he had brought home.

Aaron opens the front door, and I see a man on the couch with a beer in his hand.

"Dad," Aaron greets.

"Back so soon?" He asks without turning toward us, "no work?"

"No, I was just picking up a frien— a Zach, um," he shakes his head, "my boyfriend Zach."

"Hello...sir, it's nice to meet you," I reach out to shake his hand, but he doesn't budge.

"Hi."

"Where's mom?" Aaron asks.

"Kitchen."

Aaron grabs my hand and leads me through the living room. We pass some family photos, and I notice a childhood picture of Aaron in a football uniform. Man, do I have a type.

"I'm home," he leans against the counter while his mom stands by the stove.

"Early," she says in surprise.

"This is Zach," he nods toward where I'm awkwardly standing in the doorframe. "Zach this is my mom Annie."

She gasps as she looks from me to Aaron, "your boyfriend?"

"That's the one."

"I really like your house," I say politely.

She approaches me with a smile before pinching my cheeks, "you have the most adorable face. My son has good taste."

"Yeah, I do too."

"Have you met Robert?"

I furrow my eyebrows, "Rob— oh, your husband?"

She laughs, "Aaron's father, but we're not married. Not yet, at least." Annie clears her throat and turns back toward the oven. "Are you hungry? I just finished making supper."

"Uh—" I shrug, "kind of, yeah."

"Good, Aaron will show you to the table."

He puts his arm over my shoulders, and I let him guide me to the table that's right outside the kitchen.

"Scared yet?" Aaron says in amusement.

"A little," I admit. We sit right next to each other, but I know the empty seat closest to me could possibly go to his dad...who I don't think likes me very much.

He grabs my hand under the table and squeezes it. "Don't be."

Annie walks in with a casserole dish of vegetables and roast.

His dad follows behind her with a bowl of bread rolls.

"I hope you like pot roast," Annie says.

"I do."

"Well, dig in."

They start cutting and scooping their shares onto their plates, and I watch stupidly, too uncomfortable to join them.