"It doesn't mean anything," I tell myself again as I lie in bed, replaying the events of today in my head. Jane must have misunderstood; Viktor can't have a crush on me. There's no way-we're just friends.
"Brody!" I hear Mom call me from downstairs, interrupting my train of thought.
"Coming, Mom!" I yell back, getting up from my bed, still in my school uniform. I go over to the closet, quickly change into some gray sweatpants and a T-shirt, and go downstairs to the living room, where Mom and Dad are sitting-Dad playing games on his phone, and Mom cleaning up the living room.
"What's up?" I ask her, leaning my shoulder against the doorway.
"Jane and her parents are coming over for lunch in ten minutes." Jane is coming? She didn't tell me anything.
"How come?" I ask. They usually come over only on special occasions.
"Your dad gets to see Chris every day at work, while I only get to see Mary on special occasions, so we wanted to catch up," Mom explains, still tidying things up like she always does when there are guests coming.
Mary and Chris are Jane's parents. Mary is known around the city for being very beautiful-she was a big deal when she was younger. Her tanned skin and dark hair were the talk of the city, or at least that's what Mom says, while Chris was a big guy, below average at best. The only good thing about him was his striking blue eyes and black hair. Everyone wondered how he ended up with a girl like Mary. Rumor has it she got pregnant with Jane and had to marry him, but I never believed the rumors. They seemed really in love to me, or at least what I think love looks like-although, who am I to make that judgment?
"Oh, okay," I reply. "But I have a study session planned with Viktor."
Although, I don't know how I'm going to face him after hearing Jane's stupid idea
"That's okay, they won't be here long," she tells me, finally stopping with the cleaning, seeming pleased with her work, and turns to me. "Go change; you can't greet guests in those clothes."
I laugh at her seriousness. She acts as if Jane and her parents are coming here for the first time in their lives. I salute her as if I'm a soldier in the army, and she throws a couch pillow at me. I dodge the incoming pillow, stick out my tongue, and run upstairs, laughing all the way up, with Mom yelling at me from downstairs that she'll ground me for life,laughing at my childish behavior,
I go into my room, change into some jeans and a blue turtleneck Mom bought me, and go back downstairs to see Jane and her parents have already arrived and are sitting in the living room, talking to my parents about some old TV show I've never heard of in my life. Jane looks up at me, rolls her eyes, and gestures toward them, making me chuckle slightly, but I cover it up with a cough.
"Brody! How are you, sweetie?" Jane's mom asks me, gesturing for me to sit down with them.
"I'm alright," I reply and go over to sit down between Jane and Chris. Chris slaps his big palm on my shoulder, making me flinch from the force. I smile at him politely. I stay quiet while my and Jane's parents talk about work and "old times," as they like to say, glancing at Jane every once in a while and rolling my eyes at her. She just makes an exasperated face, showing that she knows what I'm feeling.
"How is school going, son?" Jane's dad asks me, using the endearing term every man his age uses while talking to me. I hate it-never understood why they feel the need to call me "son" or "buddy" or any other term they think fits the box.
"Good, sir," I reply politely. He smiles and slaps his hand on my back again-once again, a typical gesture of endearment I hate.
"Any girls?" he questions, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making Mary hit his arm at what he's suggesting, as if it's so outrageous that a 17-year-old might have a sex life. I don't, but it wouldn't be an outrageous thought that I might.
"No, sir," I say, hoping this will be the end of the conversation, and thankfully it is. He turns back to my dad and starts talking about all the trouble they got into in high school, how they did dumb pranks, and what girls they liked, while Mary and Mom go to the kitchen to make some food,and i talk silently to Jane about the exam we have and my study session with Viktor, with her just raising her eyebrow at me and not commenting,soon the food is ready and we all eat together and laugh at the countless stories Dad and Chris share of what Grandma called "Dad's wild days." I check my phone while listening to Chris tell one of his stories and see that it's already 3:30 and I have to be at Viktor's soon, so I excuse myself and go to my room to get my backpack, trying not to think about what Jane said today. I mean, it's ridiculous-there's no way he likes me like that. She just got the wrong idea. I get my backpack, put my math notebook and book in it, take my phone, and text Viktor that I'll be there soon. I go back downstairs, put on my shoes, and yell out, "I'm heading out" as I leave the house. I decide to walk to Viktor's house since North Street is close to the square, and it wouldn't take me long to get there-probably why Viktor was wandering around the square that day. As I walk towards the square, my thoughts go back to what Jane said-such a ridiculous idea. How could she think Viktor has a crush on me? It's funny, really, when I think about it. I chuckle to myself as I turn right when I see the square. Arriving at North Street, I walk through the street, checking the numbers on the houses, keeping an eye out for Viktor's address. 38...40...42. I stop in front of a big white house with brown shutters on the windows and a light blue fence surrounding it. I watch in awe-my house is pretty nice but nothing compared to this. I open the gate and go into the yard, looking around at the garden gnomes as I walk up to the house and ring the doorbell. I hear footsteps approaching the big dark brown door from the other side and the sound of the door unlocking. I feel unreasonably nervous, maybe because of what Jane said today or maybe because I have never been to a classmate's house except hers. I don't know. I hold my breath, expecting to see Viktor when the door opens, but I am met with a slim black-haired woman in her mid-40s, wearing a red dress far too elegant for staying at home.
"Yes?" she questions, smiling in that same almost childish way Viktor does, so this woman must be his mother.
"I came to study with Viktor," I tell her, trying not to feel intimidated by her elegant presence.
"So you must be Brody then!" she exclaims cheerfully and pulls me into a hug, like Viktor has done so many times before.
"So that's where he gets it from," I think to myself as she pulls away from the hug and drags me into the house.
"Viktor, Brody is here!" she yells out, climbing up two stairs.
"I'll be there in a second!" I hear Viktor yell back from upstairs, making me wonder why he has an accent and she doesn't. Well, he did mention she is American, was born and raised here, and probably only moved to Russia after marrying Viktor's dad.
"I'm Veronica. It's nice to meet you, Brody," she tells me after looking back at me, once again sporting that same smile.
"Likewise, ma'am," I reply, smiling politely.
I turn my head when I hear footsteps coming from inside what I assume is the living room. A tall, broad man steps out, his gray hair and beard groomed neatly. He turns to me with a menacing look on his face as he eyes me up and down as if assessing a threat, making me sweat with the intensity of his gaze. His piercing eyes stop at my face, and he stretches out a hand toward me.
"Dimitri," he says, the thick accent in his voice making him sound even more intimidating than he is. I stretch out my hand shakily and grip his, not daring to look him in the eyes.
"Brody," I mumble nervously, feeling like I'm the prey shaking hands with the wolf. He grips my hand tightly, my fingers aching under the force, and I wince slightly when he lets go.
"Let him be," Viktor's mom exclaims as she comes up to stand next to her husband, making a truly intimidating couple. "We're going to head out for dinner now. You two behave."
What? They are leaving? I open my mouth to say something, but they already leave the house, leaving me alone... with Viktor. I don't know why, but the thought of being alone with Viktor makes my heart skip a beat.
YOU ARE READING
Unconditionally Yours
Romance"He isn't going to do what I think he is about to do. Is he? No, that would be insane; we are both boys. He lowers his eyes to my lips for a second, looks into my eyes, and lowers his head more, connecting our lips. I can hear my heart beating in my...
