Silence danced cheerlessly through the vehicle. I gripped my sweater sleeves nervously, glancing at my mom every few seconds. She grasped the steering wheel tightly, refusing to meet my eyes directly.
"If you keep whipping your head around like that, your neck's gonna snap." She hissed. I murmured a quick apology, turning my attention to the floorboard. A hush fell over us again, the only sound being the passing traffic outside our closed windows.
The car came to a stop, and I raised my head slowly. There was a decent-sized, well-kept house waiting at the top of the driveway. My stomach churned unpleasantly as I thought about the vile creature that inhabited this lovely home.
The color drained from my face and I swallowed hard. The look my mother shot me was nowhere near reassuring. She was obviously going to enjoy watching me suffer.
I slowly opened the car door, stepping onto the cement below. I heard Mom's heels clicking behind me as I headed toward the front door. My mother's fist rose, giving three sharp taps on the wood.
Moments later, my stomach fell as the door swung open. My face heated and my palms began to sweat at the sight of the beautiful girl. Her brown eyes reflected her warm smile perfectly, and when she adjusted her dark ponytail, I considered falling to my knees to worship this goddess.
"Hello, you must be Liz," her smile could light up an entire city. "I'm Mali-Koa."
"Nice to meet you, dear." Mom said kindly. "This is my son, Luke."
"Hi, Luke." Mali-Koa gave a small wave. A lump formed in my throat, and a knot formed in my stomach. I'd never been talented in the wooing department.
"Luke." I squeaked stupidly, face turning a shade of red I previously thought impossible.
"Yeah," Mali-Koa rolled her eyes playfully, "I got that." She shook her head lightly with a sigh, obviously not interested.
"Come on in." She stepped out of the doorway, allowing us passage.
As I stepped through the threshold, I wondered how this house managed to stay so spotless. After all, there was a monster lurking in the darkest corners.
Mali-Koa led the way through the halls, finally bringing us to a dining room. Three of the five chairs were already occupied. A couple about my mom's age smiled at us. I realized how much trouble my mother must have gone through to explain it all, as the couple welcomed me kindly, rather than treating me like I'd attacked their son. Calum, on the other hand, looked just about as thrilled as I was to be attending this event. Sections of napkins had been stuffed in his nostrils, and his glare would have sent the bravest running.
"Please, sit down." Mr. Hood smiled, gesturing to the table. Mali-Koa sat beside her father in the fourth chair, leaving one empty seat. I stood awkwardly as my mother sat, a smug look on her face. I cleared my throat, shifting on my feet.
"Oh!" Mrs. Hood hooted, "Calum, get a chair for Luke." She ordered, glancing across the table to her son. Looking as if he was on the verge of committing a murder, Calum got to his feet and stomped out of the room. As the others dove into conversation, I occupied myself by scanning over the photographs placed along one of the shelves. I tried desperately to ignore the picture of a very young Calum with a very nude bottom shining its light on the camera.
"Think fast, Hemmings." Calum's voice came from behind. I turned on my heel, doubling over as the leg of a chair stabbed into my foot. I heard the rest of the Hood's scolding Calum, and my mother insisting that I would be "just fine". I looked at the miniscule chair built for a small child that had planted itself onto my toes. I met Calum's dark eyes, raising my brows inquisitively.
"It's all I could find." He shrugged lightly, that irritating smirk curling his lips in a most unflattering fashion- although the girls of our school seem to find it incredibly amusing.
Rolling my eyes, I scooted it across the hardwood, resting it beside my mother's appropriately sized seat. I crouched awkwardly, Mrs. Hood gushing over how this chair used to be Mali-Koa's favorite when she was little. I peeked over the table at my designated plate of spaghetti, trying to ignore Calum in my peripheral vision. I hadn't realized I was glaring at the pasta until my mother nudged me under the table.
I'd known that I'd disliked Calum Hood, but it was on that childish throne of humiliation that I decided I despised him.
As the evening dragged on, I wondered if the Hoods could see my mother kicking me repeatedly under the table. The agonizingly small chair gave me no room to escape her attacks. Suddenly, a DING! broke through the conversation of the parents. Mrs. Hood narrowed her eyes in Calum's direction, to which he raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
"Calum," She sighed, "Do you have your phone at the table again?"
"In my pocket." Calum shrugged, rolling his eyes lightly. My mother would probably gauge my eyes out if I rolled them at her. "It's probably just Michael, he wanted me to meet him at the theater tonight."
"That'd be great," Mrs. Hood smiled, "You could take Luke along, too."
Just as my world came crashing down around me, Mom picked it all up again.
"Thank you, Joy, but we really should get home." She smiled softly, rising from her seat. As I replicated her actions, I felt the life returning to my legs. Carefully stepping around my chair, I chimed in my words of gratitude as my mother thanked the family for having us. Desperate to escape, I led the way to the front door.
I stared at the guitar in the corner of my room, occasionally wiping the sweat from my forehead with the hem of my shirt. My head was pounding, and my stomach felt queasy. I stumbled through the hallway, knocking on my mother's bedroom door. Reporting a stomach ache to my mum was a habit of my childhood that had yet to leave me.
"Mum," I whined softly, "I don't feel very good."
"It's the guilt kicking in." Mum said from the other side of the door. Realizing she wasn't in the mood to sympathize, I sighed and headed back to my room.
As I stepped over the threshold, dark spots began to dance before my eyes. The walls started to spin as I proceeded to get dizzier with every passing second. My vision got fuzzier, and I couldn't open my mouth to call for help.
My eyes snapped shut, and the world went silent as the back of my head collided with the hardwood.
