Sparks (TheCampingRusher Short Story)

Chapter 14

-Larry's POV
"Eggs? Check. Bread? Check." I continue to mumble to myself as I snake my cart around the aisles. My phone is neatly tucked into my back pocket as I continue to check off items from my mental checklist. With meeting the guys and PAX I hadn't gone shopping in well over a month and a half, and my pantries were bare as can be. After having survived off of pizza and other such easy fixes for nearly a week, I finally decided to get up and actually do the adult thing.
God, I hate shopping.
I walk around the store one last time as I try to make sure that I haven't forgotten any "survival essentials". After paying and packing everything into the Jeep I slide into the drivers seat and head home for the day.
I can feel my stomach clench as I near my street. A natural reaction to being so close to home that I've gotten used to over the years. I turn into the driveway and park next to the beat up old Chrysler minivan that my parents refuse to get rid of.
My parents.
The phrase feels so foreign to me. It's been such a long time since they've actually been around long enough to call them that. Before turning off the car, I gently rest my head on the steering wheel. The gentle rumble of the engine calming me down enough to steel myself before the inevitable happens.
"Your mom let me in."
The voice is so clear that I can almost feel his presence in the car. I can almost smell the chocolate milk that has way too much Nesquik to be good for anyone, and hear the leaves as they rustle in the tree outside my window. All the nice things mask the fact that my stomach is turning itself over for a while. Then it all comes back to me.
I hadn't noticed it. Hadn't even given it a second thought when it happened. But as the day had gone on and I had been given time to think I soon realized why those four little words were so important to me. Why my throat closed up every time he said something like "She's very nice. Your mom." I had smiled at him and done nothing more that given him a simple "yeah" as a response. But the thought still lingered in the back of my mind. And while the party had been wonderful I couldn't shake the goose flesh on my skin or the constant need to fidget with my rings.
They were back.
The party had gone off without a hitch. Everyone had fun, and I spent my first birthday in a long time with actual friends by my side. That was until Brayden offered to take me home.
I instantly felt the ball of cotton in my throat begin to form again. It cut off my air and left me a pale color that seemed out of place and foreign on my skin.
Naturally he had taken interest in my condition as soon as he noticed the not-so-gentle squeeze I had given his hand.
"Can't we just stay at your place? I mean your mom wouldn't mind, right?", I could feel my voice shake and my eyes beginning to sting.
He had looked at me with a curious expression but had not tried to pry into my sudden discomfort.
In retrospect, I suppose it might have been and odd request. We hadn't ever slept over. Even in our brief time as friends. Naturally I was acquainted with his family by now. And I assumed that they liked me enough not to mind the sudden invasion of their home. But I could tell that he still felt odd about it. If I hadn't been so engrossed in all the thoughts jumbling in my head I suppose I would have felt the same.
It had been nearly three days of dodging calls and messages when I finally decided to woman up and face my problem head on.
I left Brayden's house that morning with a small smile, a whispered "see you later" and some exchange of goodbyes with whoever had been there at the time. Promising Brayden's mother that I'd be over for dinner sometime the following week.
And now here I am. In my front yard with my engine burning its fuel as I sit silently trying to regain a steady heartbeat.
I obviously knew they'd be back sooner or later. It never mattered how far they went or how much they spent. They always came back. Sometimes it could be months before I heard a peep out of them. Other times they'd call so excessively that I would have to schedule text messages to keep their constant hounding at bay. However worried or not worried they were about things back home never mattered. They always came back. Asking me questions and telling me about this and that and all of their exotic adventures and what not. Acting as if they hadn't yet again left me behind to deal with something that I had to deal with on my own had become their specialty and I knew better than to question their intentions.
So I took their little "Oh, Hilarry! You absolutely must come with us next time" and "You would've loved its" as I sipped whatever foreign concoction my mother had learned on her trip.
I finally pulled the key from the ignition and hopped out of the car, grabbing all of the bags at once because "two trips is for pussies" as Graser had so poetically stated.
I knew what I was getting into the second I heard the lock click. The frantic footsteps similar to when your pets haven't seen you in a while and the small shrieks of joy from my mother; it all came full force and, as always, I was not prepared.
I plastered the most genuine smile I could muster on my face and in my sing song voice said four words. Four small words that would seem harmless to anyone else, yet they cut deep into my skin as they slowly rolled off my tongue.
"Mother! I've missed you!"

hello guess who's back? So this chapter is dedicated to TheCampingCube for being the person who got me back into writing for this story. Thank you so much! This chapter is kind of a filler as I get back into the general feeling of writing from Larry's POV. And this chapter will soon make a lot more sense as the book progresses, it will also help explain my somewhat misleading prologue :). As alway thank you for the support and any feedback is very much appreciated. Also thank you for over 10k read on my book! That is insane and I love you guys so much for it!
-vee