Jeremy

Chapter 2 (Part 2)

I couldn't get her out of my head on my way home. I hadn't even seen her face, and I may never have seen her again. Should I have said something? I couldn't hold the thoughts out of my head. I let them pester me though on my way through the front door. My mother was seated on the couch, legs curled up next to her, book in hand, but not open. Instead, she was talking to one of her work friends. They both started work the next day, just like I was starting school. Well, their real work. Setting up a classroom to teach the next generation of children wasn't really work in my eyes. More like preparation.
Of course, she heard me enter, so she said into the phone, "Oh. Jeremy's back. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye." After the other person's goodbye, she hung up. "That was fast. You weren't gone very long. Did you enjoy yourself?"
"Yeah. I guess so."
She let out a slight sigh. "You didn't invite anyone else, did you?"
"Woah," I said with a touch of sarcasm. "How'd you guess?"
"Because I know you." She stood. Clearly, she didn't take that as a rhetorical question, or the more likely reason; she knew it was a rhetorical question, but wanted to answer it for her own satisfaction. It's just how my mother worked. Nevertheless, I loved her. Too much for my own good. She was the type of mother who would dance in public to embarrass me, but little does she know, that if I was comfortable with dancing in front of people, I'd join her for sure. I may not act like I'm that type, but I am when it comes to her. I mean, she's done so much for me. She gave up something irreplaceable for me.
"When's father coming home?" I chose to ask in an attempt to change the subject. She looked a bit irritated but responded anyway.
"Late." A tad blunt, but I got it. He almost always worked "late" nowadays. That's what we have to deal with because the hospital put him on the night shift so often. He usually seemed pretty okay with it, but he was often tired when he got home and ended up going straight to bed after dinner, if he was awake enough to eat, that is. I probably wouldn't see him that night because my mother would want me in bed relatively early for school that night. Though it wasn't quite that time yet, so I had time to myself. Mother wouldn't want me swimming, but that didn't matter so much as not having to be forced outside somewhere that wasn't our backyard.
To keep the peace I sat on a chair across from the sofa that she was lounging on. I scrolled through my phone, seeing the Tweets and Snaps that I hadn't yet seen about school tomorrow. Many of the seniors were already talking about little stunts to pull, trying to get everyone in on it. I'm not that type, but I am the type to not do anything and laugh if and/or when it happens. None of the ideas were very good yet, but I'm confident someone will do something idiotic enough to make the yearbooks.
A few of my "friends-" you know, the ones I haven't talked to all summer, but I'll hang with all year- tagged me in some posts and littered my messages saying things like: "Ready for prison?" or "Meet at the Junior's bathroom like usual?" or "Let's raise hell!" Most of which were from the small group I hung out with in the past years of high school. Thinking about it now, I wonder how people can have the "best year" with each other and then just forget friends exist during the summer. Then all of a sudden, your contact is there and you have a hundred texts asking if you're still a virgin.
I can't say I've always liked these people, but they're all I've had since freshman year, and I didn't plan to go ignored for my last year. I won't deny either that we did have some good times that often ended in a shit storm. Hangovers, high, et cetera.

With the boredom rising quickly, I called it and stood. "Need help with dinner?" She was asleep.  Okay then. I'll just make it then. Going through a list of easy things I knew how to make, I settled on a relatively fancy pasta. It's better than throwing mac n' cheese into a pot, but it's also not the most I could've done. Either way, she'd appreciate it, so why the hell not?
I tried my best to keep the noise down, but the timer just had to blare and wake her. Which was too bad. I could tell she was a little upset when I came home. It's because it was my senior year. AKA, the last year of high school before college. She's a mother, so of course, she's going to be overdramatic about it.
She got up though after rubbing her eyes and murmuring some irritation from falling asleep in the first place. Moving quite lazily, she made it to a barstool in the kitchen and sat. "Smells good. Sorry for falling asleep."
"It's no big deal. Just pasta anyway."
"There are leftovers in the fridge, you know."
"I did not know." My voice got a little pitchy. "Will this work for tonight? There won't be leftovers."
"Of course." She was always too good to me. Ever since a few years before that, when I went through a change, she's always been so supportive and didn't care if I didn't like something or wanted to go somewhere, or even just stay at home. She'd just let me do what I wanted. Every so often though, I find her in scrapbooks and surfing through her photos on her phone or memories on FaceBook. I could tell she missed that me, but she seemed just as happy now, even when I'd ask, she'd just smile and hug me.

Sitting and eating, not very far through the food, there was a sound at the door. As if it were being unlocked. I paused mid-bite, and Mother took one more bite and placed her fork down, turning slightly in her seat to see around the wall to the front door. Father walked in and dropped his bag by the door, took his shoes off, and hung his jacket on the rack. "What's for dinner," he exclaimed. A smile spread from ear to ear on his face. There was silence. "What? I didn't want to miss my last night with my boy, so I got permission to leave early." He came over and scruffed my hair.
He grabbed a plate that I had put in the fridge for him and sat down with us, not bothering to heat it first. He crammed a forkful into his mouth and quickly realized it was too big a bite, so he had to cover his mouth while he chewed, trying to keep it down when he swallowed.
    Dinner went by with little conversation. Though after that, we all gathered on the back patio, feet in the pool, and looked out at the mostly clear sky. It was a beautiful night. Nice for the last day of summer vacation. I couldn't tell what was to happen the following day, but whatever it was, it couldn't be too different from the last three years of high school, right?

With that, bed came shortly after, while my parents lingered a while longer in their interstellar world, looking up at the stars. So they did that, and I looked out my window with my music playing softly in my ears for my last night of summer. I felt dreadful but relatively excited as many kids do for the "first day" back.