Drumbeats into My Heart

7. Seth vs Mommy Issues

The feelings coursing through me right now as I walk home are so phenomenally jumbled, I can only call it a daze. A completely befuddling yet deliriously happy daze.

The farmer's market was five miles from Jordi's house, so I walked with her for a mile, then headed home. What I really wanted to do was walk her all the way home, but the sun was already low, and I'm not sure I'm up for such a hike anyway.

My new favorite thing in the world might be making her laugh. I just love the sound of it, almost as musical to me as her drumming. If I had to put it into words, I'd say I love her laugh because it puts me at ease and banishes the nervousness that usually plagues me around girls. It's a new feeling for me, this ease, this lightness, and it just makes me want to see more of her.

And I can, now that I know her schedule. I smile to myself as I open the front door, more content than I've felt in a long time. I haven't felt this great since... huh. Maybe ever?

"And where have you been?" My mother ambushes me as soon as I cross the threshold. Her perpetually stern face is locked in a deep frown.

My eyes dart to the clock. "Um, walking around?" Lame, Seth. Lame.

"For six hours?" She narrows her eyes and folds her arms over her chest. I didn't think she could look even more stern, but there it is.

My heart knocks against my ribs almost painfully. This is the feeling I hate. The hard knot in my stomach, like I'm trapped in a cage, and every single word that comes out of my mouth is the wrong thing.

My jaw clenches, a retort at the tip of my tongue. It's summer break for Pete's sake. And I'm sixteen. Ease up, Atilla. But I just can't say it. I want to, so badly, but the words lodge in my throat because I know if I utter them, I might as well sign my own death warrant.

"Well?" Her voice is starting to get shrill, which indicates her patience is running thin. Which honestly seems to be all the time where I'm concerned.

I want to ask her why she hates me, but I'm paralyzed. I can feel the shame spreading hot blotches up my neck and onto my face.

I'm afraid of my own mother. Plain and simple. She's domineered over me my entire life. She used to slap the crap out of me as a child, and even though I'm too big for such discipline now and could easily walk out, I don't. I'm still petrified. Frozen by that same old fear.

Just fess up and suffer the consequences, like you always do. "I was at the farmer's market."

"All day?"

I stare down at the brown carpet "Yes."

"Doing what?"

I debate telling her about Jordi.

The one bright spot in my life.

No, I'm not going to tarnish it. I'm going to keep her locked away in a corner of my mind, safe from my mother's judgmental stare. "Volunteering," I say instead.

I peek at her, trying to gauge her reaction to the fib.

Her brows are no longer an angry line. "Volunteering?"

Emboldened, I continue. "Yeah, learning about local economics and the obstacles that farmers face. It'll look good on my college resume."

She unfolds her arms, face relaxing. "Well. Good thinking. I never considered that before. Just tell me next time, okay?"

She ruffles my hair in an attempt to express affection, but the gesture is stiff and makes me uncomfortable. I don't exhale until I escape her presence and reach the safety of my room, collapsing onto the bed. I've never lied to my mother before, and it's leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I know she means well, but I really wish she would stop being such a control freak.

Which is why I'm going to college far away from here. The farther the better. I have no idea where yet, but definitely out of state. I'll go up to my eyeballs in debt if I have to. If she wants so badly for me to go to a good university, then fine. I'm going to use that to my advantage and fling myself as far as possible.

I glance at my wall calendar, a picture of Worf the Klingon warrior, glaring at me. The manliest character in all of Star Trek. Stoic. Tough.

Mocking. Definitely not afraid of my mother.

As soon as I can manage it, I'm getting out of here.

It's unfair how boys feel like they have to be tough and manly. What if that's not who they are? Let's give him a supportive vote, because we like him just as he is. At least, I hope you do. XD