My Boyfriend's Girlfriend

twenty

It was almost five when I got home that afternoon. We didn't have practice today, and I'd bummed a ride off Stacy, like I was told to do. And Stacy, of course, hadn't shied away from any questions. Not only did I have to fill her in on Sunday, but I had to update her on the details of the morning, as well. So, making a pit stop for milkshakes was a given.

When I'd walked in the door, my mom was doing her best to make it look like she hadn't been waiting for me for ten hours. I knew she was in her favorite spot in the house, lounging in the hand-me-down recliner she'd gotten from some estranged aunt when she and dad bought the house that she'd now worn a groove into by using daily, binge-watching more episodes of Lucifer - her newest obsession. She followed the actors on all social media, and even kept tabs on updates about the next season that was set to air in the spring.

I attempted to quietly set my keys down on the counter, hoping she'd give me a few moments to collect myself before she expectantly grilled me. It was no use, though, when Tony came barreling into the entryway to greet me. I was too late to quiet him, which is how I ended up sitting on the couch across from my mom just five minutes later.

She hadn't paused her show yet, which I was surprised but not annoyed by. It gave me a chance to sit and think about what I would say, or how I'd even start the conversation before she started in on me. Was I really ready to tell my mom what was going on, when I barely had a hold on the situation myself? I didn't even know what college I wanted to go to yet, let alone what my sexuality was.

I pulled my legs up on the couch underneath me, and sat with my body twisted slightly towards the TV. I pulled my socks up that had slid down slightly over my tights, smoothing out any creases, and pulled my skirt down over my thighs. I felt awkward no matter what way I sat, and if I didn't stop fidgeting, I was going to definitely look suspicious. If I didn't already, with the sheen of nervous sweat on my forehead, and nails that had been chewed on until they bled.

I was still completely in shock by what had happened this morning, that I barely registered the entire day. Everything had been a blur from the minute I got out of Danny's truck to the minute I stepped in the front door. It wasn't that I was hurt - not by any means - but it was surprising that it had been so quick. I still couldn't believe he'd been the one to say anything first. He hadn't texted me at all after that, and I didn't bother trying to see if he was waiting for me for lunch before I walked to the choir room to run through my audition piece on the practice piano. I was extremely rusty, and I knew Mr. Williamson would be disappointed in me for next week's lesson, but I'd been too preoccupied to even bother with it for the last month.

I wondered if Danny had talked to any of his friends yet, or if any of them had seen me storm away from him in the morning. Surely, they had to wonder where I'd been at lunch, I'd sat with them every day for the last year. Did they think I was the bitch? Or were they still speculating about Danny's sexuality, when it was actually mine to question? I tried to clear my mind, but that only lead me to think about what I would have to say to my mom, whose eyes were boring holes into the side of my face.

You've got this, Abby. My face and throat were aflame again, and I knew I had to say something, but I couldn't think of where I wanted to begin. I'm kind of gay, or Danny is a cheater? Both were pretty hard to talk about on their own, let alone in the same conversation.

"So, you wanted to talk?" Speak of the devil.

I sat up a little straighter and rested one of my hands under my chin. I nodded my head curtly, and let out a quiet sigh. "Yeah." I said, and was surprised to not hear my mom say anything in return. Waiting for someone to initiate the conversation was not something she was particularly great at, but here she was, giving me the time I needed to collect my thoughts.