My Beautiful Boy ✔️

12

I'm so stupid. I had stood there, waiting for her. She showed up, but not in the way I expected. In fact, I don't even know why I had hope. My father hates her, and I did nothing to stand up for her. Of course she's not going to want to see me again.

I wanted to return the clothes she left at my house, but that's not possible. Alayna left that morning in my clothes, but I don't mind if she had them. I just wish she'd talk to me.

Sighing, I wiped down the table at the restaurant, my mind occupied. I feel a hand on my back and I quickly turn around, being faced by Gracie. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she's frowning at me.

"You've been wiping that table for five minutes, Dawson." She says sceptically, gesturing behind her. "We've got people who need to sit down. That's the only available table left." She says, and I remember that today is one of the busier days. I look from her to the customers, sending them an apologetic smile.

"Right. Yeah, sorry." I mumble, moving away from the table. Gracie seats the family before taking my arm and leading me around the corner. She stares up at me in worry.

"Is everything okay? If you want, you can go home. I'll cover your shift." She says, smiling sweetly at me. I hesitate before nodding my head.

"Thank you, Gracie." I nodded my head at her, sending her a tight smile. "Thank you. I'll pay you back." I tell her, throwing off my apron and grabbing my house keys. When I get out of the building, I lean against the wall, not sure what to do.

I control my breathing and when I'm done challenging myself on what to do, I pull my phone out of my pocket and bring up Alayna's number. It's cold and when I breathe out, my breath is white. My cheeks and the tip of my nose were red. I shook my head before calling Alayna. She answers on the fourth ring.

"Hello?" She answers, and my eyes close at the sound of her voice.

"Alayna. I... I'm sorry about my father." I told her, running a shaky, freezing hand carefully through my blond hair. "That's the reason I didn't want him to meet you." I tell her, and I hear her chuckle quietly.

"Why? He seems lovely." She jokes, and there's a small smile on my face. "Honestly, Dawson, you don't need to apologise." She paused for a few seconds. "Did you get home safe?" She asked, quietly. I look up at the dark sky, staring at the moon.

"I did." I tell her, and the sound of her shallow breathing runs straight through me. "Thank you for asking."

"Do you..." She hesitated. "Do you wanna come over? My parents aren't home and my siblings are asleep. We can just talk... or watch a movie. Whatever you want." She asked, and I could see her biting her nails in my head.

"Are you sure? I don't want to invade-"

"It's okay. My parents won't mind you being over. I mean, I hope." She laughs, and I tell her to send me her address before she hangs up. There's a small smile on my face as I'm walking away from the restaurant, my hands curled around my phone.

I realise that ever since moving out of London, this is the first time I'm letting someone into my life. It's the first time I've been invited to someone's house and it's the first time I'm excited about whatever the future holds for me.

***

I knock on the door of Alayna's house, waiting a few minutes before it's opened. Alayna stands there, her hair framing her bronze skin. She's wearing silk pyjamas, the pink material sliding down her body. She wore shorts, and her long, brown legs were on display. I blink multiple times, swallowing a huge lump of air in my throat.

"Sorry." She apologises, her cheeks reddening. "I didn't know if you were going to come over, so I was ready to go to bed." Alayna chuckles, and I shake my head.

"I walked." I tell her, and she ushers me through the door. Alayna leads me through the house, into the living room. I looked around, taking in everything I saw. She slumps onto the sofa and I carefully sit next to her. Alayna turns to face me, her legs folded underneath her body.

"Tell me about your father." She begins to say, and I'm a little taken aback. It's a... different topic of conversation and not something that I thought Alayna was particularly interested in. "I mean... if you want to, of course." She backtracks.

I lean back on the couch, resting my head on the back and staring up at the ceiling. "My father." I murmur, rubbing my palm over my mouth. "He's always been..."

"Racist?" Alayna asked, and I nodded my head.

"Yeah. Racist. And when I was younger, in London, I believed him. I thought every person from a different ethnic background to me was lower than me. My dad didn't see them as humans, and to a point, neither did I. I never said anything, however. I was civil." I told her, swallowing the lump in my throat. I can't bear to turn my head and look at the expression on her face at my confession. "But, as I grew older, I realised that everyone was human and I can't judge someone based on their ethnic background. I opposed my dad's ideas, but... I never voiced them." I tell her, and I hear the way her voice hitches.

"Did you ever want to?" She asked. I turn my head slightly, glancing at her. Her eyes are flickering all over my face.

"All the time." I whispered. "He'd say something, and..." I shake my head. "I hate that environment." I told her. "I grew up. And now... I'm waiting for him to grow up." I conclude, and Alayna is still staring at me. Her lips twitch into a smile and I find that I can't look away.

"You're eighteen, Dawson." She says, tilting her head at me. "I know it's not as simple as what it sounds like, but you can get out of that house." She says, and she's right. It's not simple. I shrug my shoulders.

"Let's talk about something else." I state, wriggling my shoulders. "This topic of conversation is depressing." I told her, and she chuckled. The sound of her laugh runs straight through me and my lips twitch up into a grin. Alayna's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"You're... smiling." She states, and it makes me smile more.

"I've smiled before." I tell her, but she just leans back on the sofa and crosses her arms over her chest. "It's just been a while." I added.

"It looks good on you." She says, and I don't have any time to react before she's grabbing the T.V remote and is switching on the T.V. "Let's watch a movie." She says, and all I can do is stare at the side of her head and try to process what she said to me.

It looks good on you. I smile.