Crush

Talk

Asher

Pulling up in front of the large house in Mom's car, I stared out of the passenger window.

Dad was going to want to talk about the meeting with the guidance counsellor. I looked at the manila envelope poking out of my school bag on the floor by my feet and I could feel my stomach start to twist in knots.

No yet.

I don't want to open the front door of the house just yet.

Breathe.

I looked straight ahead, stared at the hedgerows surrounding the long driveway up to the house. During the holidays, Mom liked to put fairy lights in them during the holidays, and made sure to use matching fairy lights around the windows and front door, making the house look like something straight out of a Christmas card.

Closing my eyes briefly, I squeezed the jeans on my thigh between my fingers and thumb.

In. Out. In. Out.

My knee was bouncing up and down, my stomach twisting, heart hammering.

I didn't want to go in the house just yet.

Opening my eyes, I glanced at my bag again, the manila envelope still teasingly poking out, almost as if to taunt me.

"Come on, Asher." Mom's voice broke through my thoughts. I'd almost forgotten she was there. "Your father will want to know how the meeting went."

Nodding absently, I grabbed my bag and opened the car door. It was now or never.

Slamming the car door shut, I dragged my feet along the gravel driveway to the white front door of my house, noticing my dad's car parked next to the garage. He was home. Just as I thought he would be.

As I went to turn the door handle, the door swung away from me to reveal my father on the other side.

Easily as tall as me and equally as strong, Zain Williams cast an air of authority that demanded attention. He stood straight, feet planted firmly apart, arms directly at his sides.

"Asher," he said quietly, looking directly at me with his piercingly blue eyes, speaking before I had the chance, like always. "Come inside and stop hanging around on the doorstep." He looked past me, down the driveway towards the gate at the end. No one can see us from the street. The driveway was too long, the gates shut, the guards on duty to move along anyone who stopped for too long. But Dad looked anyway. Looked to see if anyone was watching him being anything less than the perfect dad he wanted everyone to think he was.

I sighed and let my shoulders slump, trudging into the house. I stopped in the hallway as the door closed behind me, waiting to see which room my dad would take me into for his talk. I stared at the curved staircase sitting in the middle of the hallway, showcased by the marble tiled floor and sparkling spotlights in the ceiling.

Clean. The hallway was always clean, almost sterile. Pictures of different landscapes, of beaches and woodlands, fields and hills hung on the wall. Places I had never been to.

I heard Mom and Dad whisper behind me, talking in hushed tones so that the words wouldn't reach my ears.

"Follow me, Asher," Dad commanded and started walking to his office at the end of the hallway. His voice left no room for argument, his walk measured and deliberate, his shoes clapping on the tiled floor. Mom and I followed behind him, Mom's heels clicking against the hard floor, my sneakers hardly making a noise. I held my breath. Why did I feel as though I was walking to my doom?

He opened the door to his office, held it open and motioned me inside. He was still dressed in his suit - dark blue with white shirt and dark blue tie. It suited him. All of his suits suited him. His tailor knew his stuff.