ᴍʏ ʙᴜꜱ ʙᴜᴅᴅʏ. [ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ ꜰꜰ]

Ch. 10-Real Talk.

The two friends took a cab to her parents' house. She could tell Darryl was nervous. He was constantly fiddling with his black gloves. She patted his knee softly, trying to bring him some comfort. "Sorry. I was hoping you wouldn't notice," he apologized. "It's ok. It can be nerve-wracking. I felt the same way when I met your mom, and she turned out to be so sweet." He thanked her, and she simply smiled. "They're nice, I promise."

They arrived at the house. It was average, painted a light blue with white along the roof and windows. There were wooden steps leading up to the porch. Both exited the taxi and grabbed their bags. "Are you ready?" Ophelia asked kindly. "I think so."

They walked up to the house, taking their time. As they neared, the shouts of joyous children and obnoxious laughter of adults became louder. Ophelia was thrilled to see her parents and other family members, but she vowed to herself that she would stick by her friend's side. Gingerly, the woman knocked on the door. It was a moment, then two. The door opened, and in front of them stood Ophelia's father. "Lia!" The man exclaimed happily. "Hi, Dad!" They hugged. "It's been so long! I missed you!"

"Me too, Dad." He ruffled her hair. She huffed and smoothed it down, Darryl giggling at her reaction. "Whose this?" He made eye contact with Darryl, who smiled timidly. "This is my best friend, Darryl."

"I thought Ariel was your best friend?" Her dad was clearly confused. "She is. They're both my best friends." He nodded and stuck his hand out. "Pleasure to meet you. The name's Matthew Graham." Darryl shook his hand. "Darryl Collins. It's nice to meet you, too." Matthew ushered them in. "Make yourselves at home. Lia, make sure he meets the family and give him a tour, would you?"

"Of course, Dad." Matthew disappeared from their view and into the kitchen. Little kids were everywhere. "They can be a little loud. I should've warned you. I have a lot of little cousins." He lightly shook his head. "It's ok. I love kids. I certainly would like to have my own one day." She agreed. "Follow me, I'll show you around and where to put our things."

= = = =

As she gave him a tour of her old home, they bumped into her mom. Hazel, Ophelia's mom, was open with Darryl and very upbeat when meeting him. Ophelia thought she acted like an excited kid. "Here's Ophelia's old room," Hazel announced. "Feel free to explore and look around. The guest room is right across the hall."

"Thanks, mom."

"It's no problem! Dinner will be done in thirty! Darryl, it was lovely to meet you!" He gave her a tiny wave. "You, too." The bedroom door closed, and the two sat on her bed. "It's very girly," he commented. She cringed. "Yeah, it's very butterfly-ish, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately? I actually think it looks adorable. My older sisters were like you. My younger sister was a little tomboy."

"Oh? That's interesting. Maybe that explains why you and her get along so well." He politely disagreed. "She got girlier as she aged, but we still get along great. We talk over the phone."

"Do you think I could meet your siblings sometime?" He nodded. "One day, yes. I actually have a half sister, too. I haven't spoken to her in some years, though." Ophelia stood and began to search through her childhood bedroom.

"Gee, you have a lot of sisters." She found a stack of vinyl records she used to listen to. Amused, he raised his brow. "Yeah? I have more brothers than sisters." She pulled the one off of the top and looked at it, making sure Darryl could see it, too.

"How are you a fan of The Beatles, but not James Brown?" Darryl asked, shocked. "WAS, a fan of The Beatles," She corrected him.

"How come you don't like them anymore?" She stood up and lightly swiped her finger over a vinyl disc. "It's not like I don't like their music anymore. I just kind of grew out of it." Ophelia gazed at her digit, it being coated in dust. "They're still great. I've just taken an interest to other artists now, like Whitney Houston." She pinched her fingers together and rubbed them together, ridding them of the built-up dust.

"I have an idea." She put the vinyl back in its original place. "And what's that, Darryl?" He stood up excitedly. Previously, he was sitting criss-cross on her old bed. Subconsciously, the female thought it was cute. "Let's recommend songs to each other. I'll listen to The Beatles. You'll listen to James Brown. Every time we do, the next time we see each other, we'll talk about it and give a personal review." Ophelia liked the idea. It sounded fun. "We should do that!" She sat on the bed, and he copied her. "So, you mentioned having friends in middle school." He waited for her to continue, feeling that she was going to say something else. "Are you still friends with them?"

"Um," he chuckled nervously. "No, not really. They changed." His eyes flickered down. He seemed sad. "I'm sorry. Did they mistreat you?"

Darryl still stared down. "No. I just stopped hanging out with them. They weren't the nicest, but they weren't mean to me." It was obvious he didn't want to elaborate. She placed her head on his shoulder.

"Do you think I'm a good person?" He spoke out of the blue. "Yes. Even when I first saw you, I could tell you had a pure heart." Ophelia answered his question with no hesitation. Silently, he shook his head. The silence wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. It was peaceful. Until she heard a whimper. Alarmed, she raised her head to see Darryl weeping. Tears fell down his face. His lips quivered as if he were afraid. "Darryl," she whispered. "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel like a good person." She brushed her thumb under his eye, wiping away a tear. "Why is that?" He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He began to get choked up again as his body shook slightly. He couldn't get it out. He was hesitating. Ophelia closed his mouth. "It's alright. If you're not comfortable, you don't have to tell me."

"I think you're a good person. You help people who are struggling in school, you're there for your mom, and you helped me find a seat on the bus. You always try to make sure people are comfortable, and when someone is upset, you ask them if they're ok. It sounds creepy, but I've seen you by yourself outside. Talking to people, offering to help carry things for others. You helped a lost little girl find her parents. You're not perfect, Darryl, but you do good things for people, and that makes you good enough."

His eyes widened at her words. It was as if a window had been opened, and air was let in, lifting away his despair into the night. The last tear fell, and there were no more. Darryl blushed. She pushed herself up towards him, and he leaned down. "I think you're a good person, your mom does, Ariel does, and I'm pretty sure my parents do. So why don't you?" Verbally, he didn't say anything, but he replied with a kiss.