Mute Songbird (boyxboy) -Complete-

Searching

I had been so sure it would be here. I closed the cupboard quietly and climbed down.

"Asher? What are you looking for?" my mom asked.

"Nuh... Nut" I was so close, even though it was a lie. Screw it. "My" and my eyes lit up and I clapped, I was so excited.

"Your what, Asher?" she asked, almost as excited as I was.

I needed another drink for this. Wait, I couldn't. Shit. Wait, where was my cup? I looked around for it.

"No, tell me. You're looking for your...."

"Saaa" No, no no. I just said the damn thing. "Staa" I didn't have time for this. I needed to find my cup and get rid of the evidence and she wasn't going to give me my phone even if I did say it. I waved my hand in dismissal and picked up the chair to put it back.

"ASHER" my father bellowed from the living room. He sounded mad. "Out here, right now!"

I sat the chair down with a thud and scurried into the living room.

"So are you drinking MY vodka or some stash you have hidden somewhere?" he asked, holding my cup.

My mother looked at me, her mouth hanging open. "Asher!"

"Maaa, I.... I..." and then a pause which probably only lasted ten or fifteen seconds but felt like oh, a year.

"Get him a pad, Nel. I want answers."

"We can't, Mike!"

If anyone ever, ever makes jokes or compliments my eye rolling again, I will put them face to face with my father because WOW did I still have a long way to go. He was king, I bowed down. Not literally, that would have been weird.

He went into the kitchen and I heard the freezer door close, then he returned. "Not mine."

I shook my head yes and pointed to him.

I could almost see the gears turning. "You did NOT put water in my vodka!"

Shit, he knew the trick. I shrugged my shoulders. I should have been really scared because BOY was I in trouble but honestly, it was all sort of funny. We were all just staring at each other, standing around the living room as if there weren't chairs. Speaking of chairs, I should put it back. I headed into the kitchen.

"Where is he going?" my dad asked.

"Mike, Mike, honey I don't know. Look, I know you're mad but what are we going to do? This is not like him, this is not Asher."

I was so amused. I missed a little bit of their conversation when I went into the dining room but I came back and lay down on the couch. I was so sleepy.

"Asher?" My mom pushed my legs over and sat down. "Is it the therapy? Is it Dan?"

Yes, Dan! It was Dan. I just needed to convince them that talking to him would fix this. I nodded and pointed towards his house. Unfortunately it was in the general direction of the television.

"TV?" she asked.

"I can't believe he ruined my vodka" my father mumbled.

No. "Slim." It was the closest thing in the rap I could think of.

"Slim? Therapy?" she asked, confused.

No.

"Dan? Is 'Slim' Dan?" she tried again.

I nodded. Finally.

"This is HIS FAULT!??" my dad yelled. "What went on at that singing competition? Were you two drinking? Partying?"

It was probably better for him to think that than what had actually happened but I didn't want him thinking badly of Dan.

"NO!"

They both looked at me, it was the first time I'd said 'no' properly, at least when I meant to.

"No Slim" and I mimicked drinking. "Aah, no I... I real..." and I gave up and signed 'phone'.

"He wants to call Dan" my mom translated for my dad. "He's been asking to but we discussed it and said this weekend, right Asher?"

"Son, you should go to bed. We can talk about this and deal with it tomorrow. You have school and it's getting late." My father was being so reasonable and I was really, really tired.

I didn't know how I was going to make it the whole way upstairs so I just closed my eyes.

"In YOUR bed Asher." He wasn't having it. "Actually, wait just a minute."

The flash was bright even with my eyes closed and I opened them to find him standing over me with a smile on his face.

"Just a little blackmail. I have you in the bathtub as a baby, wearing more lipstick than a Vegas showgirl when you were about four, and now drunk and passed out on a couch" my father joked. "Your wedding will be something to remember."

Of course it would, but not because of those pictures. It was going to be the party of the century. I had it planned and it was only to be outdone by the epic gala that would be my funeral. I had a whole folder made up for my mom or whoever ended up throwing it -- color schemes, music, decorations, everything. Don't judge, I had a lot of free time with the whole 'having no friends' thing.

"Asher" my mother said gently "Get on up to bed now. Drink some water first, you're not going to feel so good in the morning. You might want to put a trashcan by your bed."

Whatever. She was crazy; I felt amazing. Just tired. "Lissss" Or night, you know, whatever.