Teenage Dirtbag

19

What happened to the old days? The old ways of showing affection?

Everyone is so rude and only thinking of themselves these days and it not a part of the plan. Nobody knows what it's like to fall in love, really, fall in love. I had always dreamed that I'd be the one to meet a boy at a library while reading my favorite book, sitting at the table with my glasses pushed against my face.

That boy would be looking at me every now and then, without saying a word. I'd look up a few times, seeing that he would already be looking at me. My cheeks would start to blush as I pushed my glasses up to my face, trying to read my book.

Soon enough he'd give up, standing up from his seat and walking to me, not sitting or kneeling down beside me.

He'd say "Hello." I would jumped a bit, closing my book to look at his sharp features.

I would respond with a hello or hi. He would awkwardly stand there, as I would question what he was trying to get at. What he was trying to speak. His eyes were saying something, as his body was different.

He would ask me if I would like to get coffee with him, or maybe go out to lunch, but only because he didn't know me and I didn't know him. If he knew me, he would've asked me to dinner, but it wasn't the case.

I missed those days where the boy would pay for the meals or the drinks, we would laugh for hours and talk about stupid things that didn't make sense. I miss the feelings that we would when we found the right one.

But now, now is a different place. We don't do those things and we sure don't feel them.

I woke up the next morning, hearing Christmas music downstairs. I looked to my calender on the wall by my door, it was the twenty fourth. I groaned and opened my door, walking down the stairs. Mum was in the kitchen, making what smelled like breakfast.

"It smells good mum?" I tried to reason with her. She had still been upset with me, but came to an understanding of Harry.

"It's almost done." She says in a cheery voice, moving around like one of those pro chefs.

"What's the occasion?" She didn't just cook for fun. When she cooked, something was up. I walked to the counter, setting my elbows down then leaning my hands under my chin.

"We have to discuss something with you." I lifted my head from my hands, looking at her back with confusion.

"O-Okay.." She set the spatula she was using down, bringing a few pot pads for the food. She walked back getting plates and silverware and dressings for pancakes.

"Call your dad down please." She began to sit down as I walked to the stairs, going to my dad's office. I knocked on the door before entering, peeking my head through.

"Dad? Breakfast is ready." He turned with wide eyes, taking his glasses off.

"Oh, right, I'm coming." I furrowed my brows, turning out of the room. When I made my way into the kitchen, mum was sitting alone with food already on her plate. She poured herself a glass of orange juice.

I sat myself down, pulling myself slowly in. It was awkward now, just me, mum and dad. We filled our plates while mum waited for us.

"May we pray?" She asked, clamping her hands together. I clasped mine together, looking down and closing my eyes.

"God is great, god is good, let us thank him for all our food. Amen." We all spoke in unison, grabbing our forks and digging in. I ate slowly, trying not to make contact with anyone.

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After a few hours passed, we cleaned up and sat down on the couch, watching re runs of mums crime shows. She fancied them, like she actually wanted to be a detective or a lawyer.

Dad sat down next to mum, wrapping his arm around her. They both turned to me, dad clearing his throat.

"So, we've noticed somethings off these past few days." Dad says, setting her fork down. I looked up, not knowing why I'm being interrogated. My mind was rambling with possibilities of what they might need to talk about. Mum and I had already cleared things up about Harry, but still didn't want me seeing him.

"What's that?" I slowly asked, trying to make a point.

"You." I dropped my hands from my chest.

"Are you okay?" He asked, making me look him in the eyes. I took in a sharp breath, nodding. Deep down, I didn't know if I was going to make it.

"I'm fine." He looked at me, letting me know he wasn't looking for secrets.

"You know when we talked about that boy the other day?" I nod, setting my hands in my lap so they would warm up. Mum sat there, not saying anything or backing me up.

"Harry, right?" I nodded again at my hands. Were they going to let me speak to him again? Let me come face to face with him?

"Well we wanted to at least get to know him before we judged too quickly. So," Mum and Dad looked at each other, mum biting her lip and dad smiling a little bit.

"we had a little chat with him the other day and he wasn't too bad, just a bit nervous but that's normal of course." My mouth was wide open with this news.

"W-What! Dad why would you do that behind my back?" I got up from the couch and ran up the stairs without thinking. My mum and dad had blindly talked to Harry behind my back.  I wanted to know what they talked about, what happened and if they actually liked him. I was upset at them because not only did they do it behind my back, Harry didn't even tell me about it. 

I pulled on a nice shirt with leggings and my socks that go up a bit. A little tinge of fabric floated off the top, making it look more touching.

As I ran downstairs, the door bell rang.

"It's probably the neighbor bringing over the spatula. Can you get it?" She hollered at me, but I obliged anyway. I remembered the letter Harry had sent me the other day. It reminded me of those old days, where texting wasn't involved. He was doing it the romantic way.

I walked to the door, smiling as I opened it.

My smile faded when I saw Harry, dressed in a dark blue button up shirt with black skinny jeans, and red roses in one hand. His eyes met mine, and his cheeks instantly went red.

I felt the burn in my face. Not knowing what to do, I sat there in shock, looking up and down at him.

"Hi.."