Damaged Goods (Book 1)

3.

Walking up the steps to my house I had a moment of deep thought. Deep, almost disturbing thoughts.

1)I was going back inside this house, my last memories weren't the best for a kid to have, but not all were horrible. Just makes this place seem taunting almost.

2) my parents were inside waiting for me. Probably expecting some rehabilitated smuck with thoughts of rainbows and ponies.

3)Asher was breathing on my neck. Very, very heavily at that and he knows I hate that.

"Back the hell up will ya." I hissed at him. Asher threw his hands up in surrender and took two steps back.

"Hey man, I understand how you may be feeling. It's hard, but don't get pissy with me."
I looked at him and had to pause for a second. I saw genuine hurt in the little shits' eyes. Maybe it's because I'm on edge and my nerves are just seeping out.

I punched him in the arm and had my puppy dog eyes on him. I can't tell whether he is joking, but it's better to fix it now than let him fester. He groaned and I knew he accepted my non-verbal apology. I never actually said the words I'm sorry but he knows when I feel bad about something. I looked at the door again and wondered what my parents would say. I denied them any kind of contact other than over the phone for two and a half years. I look 100% different now and nowhere near the scrawny bookworm with harmful thoughts. My thoughts are harmful sometimes, just mostly not towards myself.

I pushed the door open and walked into the house. "Anyone here? No?! Okay!" I yelled out before beginning to push Asher back towards the door. Some part of me knew it was no way in hell they would miss getting a peek at this, but a guy can hope.

"In here dear. The living room." A soft voice rang through the entrance from down the hall. Still the same soft and light tone it always carried. Freezing in my tracks I groaned and could feel Asher smirking at me even though his face was opposite of mine. Fucking smuck.

I nodded my head telling Asher to follow along as we walked through the entrance into the main portion of the house. As we walked Asher kept humming the theme song to Mission Impossible and I hit him over the head. Twice. Hard.

As I turned towards the living room I saw my parents sitting on the couch with wide eyes and smiles, then watched as a little shock appeared. A mix of disbelief and anxiety at my appearance was written across their primed faces. They stared at my tattoos, lack of haircut, piercings, and my typical sweatshirt and jean look. I wore black a lot and it dominated my wardrobe, what can I say, the shit goes with everything. I normally paired it with at least one other color to seem normal and not hear Asher's normal pointed comment about me looking like a Buffy, the vampire slayer fan.

"How my son grew while he was away. I've missed you." My mother came up and hugged me tightly. This was not the reaction I was expecting. I expected yells of dismay or perhaps looks of just horror, especially from this woman. She hadn't changed much, the same soft soccer mom looks paired with her overly observant eagle eyes. I awkwardly patted her back and she seemed disappointed as to not get a bear hug when she finally released me from the one-sided touching. I just kept a blank face because I have no interest in fake pleasantries and her perfume was a little overwhelming. Gucci Bloom was such a basic and strong scent.

Next, it was my father and his huge bear hugs we all have tried to mimic. I used to love these but now they just feel like I'm trapped in a tight space. My chest hurts the more he touches me. "Hi, son. I-We have missed you so much." I again said nothing. His normally short hair was a little longer and his grey eyes a little darker. He always smelled like mint and something sweet. That was one thing that never changed. As if they just noticed him in the room they turned to Asher and looked confused.