Heartbreak High: New Hope

Part 4 'New Turns'

(Tyler)

I pushed open the front door, the familiar creak echoing through the silent house. The soft glow of the TV spilled into the hallway, casting flickering shadows on the walls. My dad lay slumped on the couch, his messy hair a tangled mop of dark curls, and the stubble on his jawline hinting at days spent lost in exhaustion. The lines etched into his features spoke of worry, time, and the burdens he carried-his deep-set eyes shadowed by dark circles, and a furrowed brow that told a story of its own.

"Hey kiddo, you're back," my dad mumbled, stirring from his sleep as I closed the door behind me.

I approached him, my footsteps barely audible over the hum of the television. "Dad, you know what the doctor said about falling asleep with the TV on," I gently reminded him. He rubbed his eyes, revealing their tired, bloodshot appearance, before offering a sheepish grin.
"Yeah, well, what's the worst that can happen now anyway?" he replied, his voice tinged with resignation.
"Come on, don't say that,"
I chided, my concern for him evident in my tone as I settled down beside him on the couch. His expression softened, sadness flickering in his tired eyes as he forced a smile. "You're right," he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper.

I studied his face, the lines etched with years of worry and weariness. Despite the fatigue weighing on his features, there was a warmth and kindness in his eyes that had always been a source of comfort for me.
"So, how was school?" he asked, attempting to change the subject.

I thought back to the argument I had gotten into with Maya earlier, the tension still fresh in my mind. But I pushed it aside, not wanting to burden my dad with my own troubles. "School was good. Coach says we have our first home game of the season coming up, and we're having a car wash this saturday to raise money for our away game," I replied with a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
"That's good. So, how're things with that girlfriend of yours, Maya?" he questioned with a warm smile.
"It feels like forever since she's stopped by."

My dad's question about Maya lingered in the air, and I offered a vague response, not wanting to delve into my relationship. "Yeah, we're good," I assured him, echoing the words I had spoken earlier.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "She's a smart girl, that one. You better not mess it up," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of warning.

I paused, but before I could respond, my dad's coughing fit interrupted the moment.
"Dad, are you okay?" I asked, concern evident in my voice as I placed a hand on his back, feeling the tension in his muscles.

The coughs subsided, and he waved me off with a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he insisted, but I could tell from the frustration in his eyes that he was anything but.
"I think it's time I head up anyway,"
he added, pushing himself off the couch and making his way towards his room.

I nodded silently, watching him go with a heavy heart. As the sound of his footsteps faded away, I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of our unresolved conversation hanging over me.

Turning my attention back to the present, I made my way to my own room, dropping my bags to the hardwood floors when the light from Lucas's bedroom caught my eye. I found myself drawn to the window, curiosity getting the better of me.

Through the glass, I watched as Lucas entered his room, his movements familiar yet somehow magnetic. He threw his stuff down, his actions mirroring my own routine in a way that made me smile.

I tried to look away, but something kept pulling my attention back to him, like a magnetic force I couldn't resist. Why was I feeling these feelings? why have I been feeling these feelings? I couldn't understand it but it was messing up my relationship with Maya, the more time I spent around Lucas the harder it was to not feel what I felt.

I forced myself away from the window, the cool night air doing little to soothe the turmoil inside me. My legs felt like jelly as I sank onto the edge of my bed. This was ridiculous. I was overthinking everything. But a part of me, a small, scared part, needed answers.

I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling slightly. I opened Google, the familiar homepage staring back at me. With a deep breath, I tapped the search bar. My mind was a blank, but the words formed themselves on the screen.

I hit search.

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