Ditching Greek | editing

46| Dominick

"What's wrong with me wanting to leave?" Clyde huffed. I stared at him, perplex and baffled at what he was suggesting. He was hiding something. His hands ran against the smudged surface of the table, not staying one place as he further explained how it would be a good idea if we left. None of his points were vailed. All I needed to do now was figure out what it exactly was he was running away from.

"We took a plane all the way over here, Clyde." I placed my hand over his restless fingers. A smug look graced his features. "I want to meet everyone else. It's the first opportunity I've actually met some else's parent's other than Gideon's and Monica's."

He raised a brow. "You didn't meet Brandon's?"

"I thought we weren't saying his name."

"Oh, right," he nodded. "You didn't meet his parents?"

I shook my head, releasing my hand from his and sitting back. "I met his aunt once I think because she was picking him up from my house, but I never got a chance to meet them. They were always busy and doing something. He always talked about them though, so I knew about his relationship with them."

"Four years and you never got even one opportunity?"

"Hey, I know how it feels to have a busy parents. My dad constantly absorbed himself in his work. It got even worse after my mom died." When my mother perished in a horrendous car crash back while I was still in high school, I lost touch with my father. He made more excuses for not coming home for the weekends. He took longer business trips and stuck us with one of our nannies for weeks on end. I had to admit, ever since Erica stepped into the picture, he did beginning to force himself back into our lives-but that was more because Erica wanted to spend time with us, not because he genuinely missed us.

"That's true," Clyde agreed. "Would you have wanted to meet my parents?"

"Of course I would have. Hell, I would want you to meet my dad if you hadn't already." I chuckled. "Do you think your parents would've liked me at all?"

"Depends of my mom walked in on us like how my aunt did," he smiled. "Honestly, I think my mom would've loved you. My dad was a hard guy to crack. I think if you'd met him before..." He stopped to clear his throat. "...before he went a little crazy on the family, I think he'd like you too."

It was obviously not a good time to ask what he meant by that so I let it pass. There was no reason to pressure him to tell me why his dad had gone crazy. That was a family affair that he'd tell me on his own time.

"So." I took another big bite into my toast. I wasn't in the mood to talk about Brandon; I had other things to talk about. Like why he instantly wanted to flee the city of Vancouver all of a sudden without much warning. "Why do we have to leave? Did your aunt tell us to leave?"

"No, God no. That's not it."

"Then what is it, Clyde? Tell me. Tell me what happened. I can see something is eating at you."

His head knocked back, clearly distressed. "I got a phone call."

"A phone call? From who?"

He sprang forward, eyes fixated forward, but not quite looking at me at all. A darkness stormed into his eyes that I'd never seen before. "What I'm about to tell you, you can't get mad at me for."

I inched back, tensing at the sound of his request. "You can't ask that of me, Clyde. I don't know what you're going to say."

"Please." His voice wobbled unevenly, shaking in places I'd never heard on Clyde. Even when he was begging me to listen to him after catching him with Amy, he hadn't sound so...breathless. Broken. Possibly even a little scared.