Hello, my name is Loser

Chapter 1: Liar, Liar

I am a terrible person.

It's okay, I can say that easily because I'm self aware, and it's the truth. Sometimes you just gotta tell the truth, ya know? Then again, lies do seem to go down easier most of the time. So that might be a lonely confession for a while. Just saying. All of the lies I'm considering telling stare back at me in my mind, like I'm window shopping in a funhouse. 

No one would ever believe why I'm really here. Or respect it. 

A squirrel sprints past my sneakers, awakening the porch sensor light and exposing me standing in the middle of the front yard. I inhale sharply. The suitcase handle in my grasp is slick with sweat. It's like a bad dream I used to have when I was in high school, back when I thought I knew everything. I didn't of course, and when I auditioned for the school play I'd forgotten the lines mid-audition. Nightmares mocked me for weeks afterwards.  In them, I'm frozen on stage, spotlight heating my flesh, eyes glowing in the darkened auditorium as the audience watches. They laugh. And it's the worst sound on earth. 

I can hear it in my head even now and I swallow hard as a light flicks on upstairs. Great. The sensor light has alerted someone.  

I whisper, "You little fuck," to the squirrel as it ducks under the neighbor's hedges, leaving me alone under the spotlight. So much for taking a moment to prepare myself. Although, if the sun was still out I'm sure the neighbors would have called the cops on a trespasser long ago. Then they would have seen who it was and had questions and my parents would too and...ugh

Already exhausted, I clear my throat and whisper lines I'd rehearsed on the bus ride here. Then my feet make the short journey to the front porch, my suitcase dragging behind me down the stone path. I reach the first step and lift it up with a grunt. That's when the front door creaks open and a figure steps into view. She's standing in the dark but I know who it is just by her outline. Mom is engulfed in a plush pink robe despite the heat outside, she blinks at me.

"Sam?" She asks, around a yawn. 

I wrestle the suitcase the rest of the way up and face her with a sheepish grin, "Guilty," I say with a shrug and wipe my sweaty hand down the front of my t-shirt.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in Boston?" She asks, still blinking sleep from her eyes.

I take this opportunity to redirect. When in doubt, always redirect. It's easier than outright lying and with any luck you'll confuse the shit out of them until they forget what they were even asking. "Aren't you hot in that thing? It's like 80 degrees out here."

"Sam –"

"I hope you have the AC on, because, man, I'm sweating," I give a low chuckle and a quick smile as I wrap Mom in a hug. It's stiff and awkward but it gets me into the house and then I'm dragging my suitcase over the stoop, not at all gracefully. I leave it at the base of the stairs and continue further into the house, flicking on a light switch as I go.

She trails me down the hallway to the kitchen. "Sam, what are you doing –"

"I need a glass of water." I pass the fridge, and continue around the island, putting space between us, "The cups are still up here, right?" I open a cabinet to the left of the sink and watch her reflection in the window just above it as I turn on the faucet and fill a glass. Thank God, she has awful vision without her glasses and can't see me eyeing her.

Tiredness is giving way to concern now. Or maybe anger. I can never tell with her.

"Tell me why you are here. Is everything alright, Sam?" She pushes a mess of brown curls behind her ears.

I take a long gulp, debating on which direction to take this. When I finish I place the glass in the sink, slowly, as if it's incredibly delicate.

Then I turn and face her. "I'm fine, Mom. I just missed you guys and decided to come back early."

"In the middle of the night?" Her blue eyes squint with skepticism.

I raise my hands above my head, "Surprise!"

She raises a finger to her lips, "Hush, please. Your father is sleeping."

"Wouldn't want to wake him," I mumble.

She crosses her arms. "How long are you staying?"

I shrug.

She looks back at the suitcase at the end of the hall. "For a while?"

"I was thinking for the summer."

"Did your summer already start? Your father and I thought your graduation wasn't for another month or two?"

I smile again, trying not to make it look forced. "I graduated early." 

"What?"

"Yep," I nod, turning to fill the glass with water again.

"Early?"

"Mmhmm," I manage as I drink. Best to give her time to answer her own questions. I saw on TV once that during police questioning the detective will let silence take over so that criminals feel stressed and just keep talking. I grin to myself. 

"Sam, are you listening?"

I realize she must have said something. "Huh? Yeah, yup." I turn to her again, wiping the grin from my face.

"We really weren't expecting you back," She leans into the frame of the archway, as if just standing is tiring. "Your old room is your father's office now, you know? And we kind of thought you were going to be staying in Boston like you talked about, at that new job, and with Tammy."

At the mention of Tammy I want to vomit. I have no intention of moving in with her. I don't say that though, instead I say, "I can sleep on the couch, I don't mind."

Mom sighs. I can tell she has more questions, but her yawns won't let her form them. I cringe at the time blinking above the stove: 3:00am.

"We can talk more in the morning, Mom."

"I just –" Yawn, "don't understand."

I walk around the island and hook an arm around her, ushering her back down the hallway towards the stairs. She's tinier than I remember. Maybe it's the robe. 

"You can't sleep down here. I have clients coming in the morning and I don't want it to look like a dorm room." 

I can't help the sigh that escapes me. "Okay, mom. I'll see if there's space in the garage." 

She nods as we reach the bottom of the stairs. "There's still some chairs and a pullout bed out there from when your brother visited last month." 

Visited? The dude practically lives next door. I'm about to say as much, but swallow the words as I see her lean against the banister and begin what looks like a painfully stiff ascent up the stairs.  

"Sure, yeah. That's great... I'll see ya tomorrow," I whisper to her back. I watch as she reaches the top without turning back then ambles out of sight, flicking off the upstairs light. Then she's engulfed by the dark of the hallway. I have a feeling tomorrow is when the real work begins and some acting skills would be nice. I frown. 

"Just great," I mumble as I glance back at my luggage waiting patiently by the front door. 

-------------------------------

Hello! 

Welcome to Hello, my name is Loser!  I think of this story as a dark comedy with some romance. I'm a big fan of stories that can say heavy stuff but follow it up with a laugh. So, I hope you follow along as I flesh out these characters and just have fun with me. Here's to trying! 

If there are any errors or continuity issues please let me know! I have the memory of potato so sometimes I forget that kinda stuff. 

Like, comment, follow. Thanks for just making it this far. I appreciate you!

-Heather <3