Fifteen Feet Ahead

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XVIII

"Is Duncan sick or something?" My mother asked, as she cleaned the kitchen.

"No, why?" I was slumped on the couch in the living room. Gabe was playing on his iPad on the floor, and dozens of floats, balloons, and dancers flashed on the TV screen.

"Because you two always watch the thanksgiving parade together."

"Oh," I sighed. "He said that the parade was for little kids." Now, Duncan never said such a thing, but pretending that he did was so much simpler than explaining the true story, right?

A few high school bands marched across the streets in New York City. It always fascinated me how they could walk in perfect sync and still play challenging music at the same time.

"Did he really?" Mom sounded extremely disappointed.

"Yeah, I told him he was crazy." Once I started lying, it was unavoidable.

She walked into the room, "Well, I'm almost forty-seven, and I still love the parade. Gabe, look up for a second. See? See the Charlie Brown balloon?"

Gabe took his eyes from the touchscreen. He looked at the TV for a split-second and then went back to his game again, "Yeah, that's cool Mom."

My brother spent most of his life looking at a video game screen, if you haven't noticed already. Maybe some would find that annoying, but for me, it was kinda nice. One less nuisance I'd have to deal with.

My mom's gotten used to this behavior too, so she just rolled her eyes and redirected her attention back to me, "Anyway, Duncan and Mrs. Arnolds will be over around four. She's bringing over all our favorite Thanksgiving usuals."

My heart stopped. I thought for sure he'd fake a fever or something of that sort. There had been not a doubt in my mind that my family would be having dinner alone this year. We'd end up ordering a pizza or KFC.

No, Thanksgiving was going to continue as usual, and I would have to spend an entire hour seated across from my ex-best friend.

It was 10am now, meaning I had approximately six hours to get mentally prepared for this extremely and excruciatingly awkward situation.

• • •

We weren't religious people really, but my dad always insisted on saying grace before we ate Thanksgiving Dinner.

I folded my sweaty palms together and scrunched my eyes as tight as I could. I don't know why I was so nervous. What could possibly happen? Duncan could ask me to pass the cranberry sauce, big deal.

"Dear God, we'd like to thank you for gathering us here today with this delicious and plentiful meal." Dad began.

It was as if I could feel the forceful tension between Duncan and I, floating in the air, weighing me down like the humidity.

"I'd like to thank Gianna for taking her own time to cook it for all of us to share."**Gianna is Mrs. Arnolds's first name**

God, why was I so terrified?

"For our health and our secure homes."

What if our parents questioned the silence? What if my mom asked him why he thought the parade was stupid? What if--

"Most importantly, I'd like to thank God for our loving family and friends."

Or what if we do talk? What if Duncan mentioned Gym Class? What if he brings up Sanders just to embarrass me?

"Amen," My dad finished.

My voice shook and stuttered as we all repeated, "Amen."

"Let's eat!" Mrs. Arnolds exclaimed, and my eyes shot open. I knew as soon as I sunk my teeth into one of her famous thanksgiving foods, everything was going to be alright. Mashed potatoes with a pool of gravy, a few slices of juicy turkey, and stuffing covered my plate.