I'm lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling as I toss a tennis ball into the air, then catching it before repeating the mundane process. Over and over. It's kind of hypnotizing.
My thoughts keep bouncing around—from Kiara, to the kiss, to everything else going on in my life. It's like solving a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
I should probably be thinking about something else, but the kiss sneaks its way back into my mind. We never talked about it afterward, and now I'm just stuck, not sure what to make of it. It's not like we're... anything.
Not yet, at least.
My phone buzzes on the bed beside me, and for a second, I wonder if it's her. I check it- nope, just a random notification. I toss it back down, fighting the urge to overthink this whole thing. Maybe she's just as unsure as I am.
And then there's Aadhi and Dahlia. Dahlia's probably been all over Aadhi, figuratively and literally, telling him every little detail about their time together. They're solid like that, never awkward or complicated. I'm not sure if I envy them, or if it's just... different.
I thought about texting Aadhi about it, asking for advice, but I keep holding back. What would I even say? Hey, man, kissed a girl, now what? Nah, that feels dumb.
Besides, I already know what he'd say. Something simple, like, Just go for it. Don't overthink it, bro. That's always Aadhi's way of dealing with stuff. Straightforward, no hesitation. It works for him, but I don't know if it works for me.
Nothing ever does.
A muffled shout comes from downstairs. My parents, probably half-watching TV or bickering about who forgot to pay the phone bill- again. Even if I told them about Kiara, about the kiss, they wouldn't care. Not in a bad way- they're just caught up in their own worlds most of the time.
I roll over onto my stomach, grabbing my phone again and hovering over Aadhi's contact. Should I text him? Ask him what he thinks? I put the phone down again before I can talk myself into it.
"Theo! Get down here!"
Dad's voice breaks through the silence. I groan, dragging myself off the bed and down the stairs. It's like no matter what's going on in my head, life at home just... stays the same. A sitcom with zero viewers, because my life is just too boring.
Besides my friends... and Kiara.
As I head downstairs, I catch a photo of my parents' wedding photo from years ago. Everyone always told me my parents were like a stock-image couple- perfect, see-through, and happy.
17 years later, I don't think that's true. I gaze at Mom glowing in her pristine ballgown, fingers intertwined with Dad's delicately like she was scared of breaking him. She never knew that Dad would break something of hers first- her heart.
I reach the kitchen to find my dad leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. He's scrolling through his phone, barely looking up. "About time," he grumbles. "Your mom needs help with transferring some boxes."
Mom's already halfway through unpacking cardboard boxes filled with random decorative items, and she gives me a quick smile as she pulls out a box of cereal. "Theo, can you grab the empty boxes and put them in the garage?"
"Sure." I do what she asks, my mind still stuck somewhere between Kiara and Aadhi, and the weird tension I can't shake.
It's not that my parents don't care. They're just too busy to notice half the time. The kiss feels like a big deal to me, but around here? It wouldn't even register.
Now that I think about it, I've always been closer to Mom, even if she doesn't know it. She's always been the one actually helping in this shithole, even whenever she's sick. Maybe I should ask her? I know it probably won't cross her mind, but just maybe...
I wipe my hands on my jeans and turn to face the door. "Mom?" I call out, my voice shaky, hoping she doesn't notice.
She comes over after a minute, clutching a kitchen towel. "What do you need, Theo?" Her tone is tired but still warm.
I look into her puffy eyes, noticing the visible dark circles under them, and the radiant glow from her wedding photo gone. I nearly decide to switch the topic, but a small nagging feeling comes behind me, urging me to tell her.
There's a beat of silence before I take a deep breath. "There's, uh, this girl. I... don't really know what's going on between us, but we... kissed." I suck in a bucketful of air, and the silence that follows is nearly strangling.
"Oh," she says softly, sitting down on a small stool in the garage. She glances at me with a raised brow. "And how do you feel about that?"
I shrug, feeling the nerves settle in my stomach. "I don't know. I mean, it was nice. Really nice. But now I'm not sure what it means. I haven't talked to her about it, and I don't want to mess things up."
Mom leans back, thinking for a second. "It sounds like you care about her," she says quietly, her tone gentle. "Do you think she feels the same way? I mean, do you think she'd want to be in a relationship?"
The few words don't register. A relationship? Hell, I can't even maintain relations with Mom and Dad, let alone a whole new girl. Don't you have to be... in love for a relationship? I'm not that far yet. I'm not Aadhi.
Or maybe I'm just in denial.
"I don't know. Maybe. I mean, she doesn't seem like the type to kiss someone just for the fun of it." I run a hand through my hair. "But I can't stop thinking about it, and I'm scared that if I bring it up, it'll make things weird."
She gives me a small smile. "Relationships... they're tricky, Theo. But talking about how you feel? That's never a bad thing. If she cares about you, she'll appreciate that you're being honest."
I bite back the feeling of a snarky remark, about how she can talk about how relationships work when hers is obviously going splendid.
Instead, I look at her, surprised by how simple she makes it sound. "You think so?"
"I do," she says, her voice soft but firm. "And even if it feels awkward or scary, sometimes the best way to figure things out is by talking. Just... be yourself, okay? That's more than enough."
I didn't expect her to understand, but somehow, she makes it sound... simple. Maybe she knows more than I give her credit for.
