The Boy In My Dreams

Chapter One: This Fancy Restaurant

I sit next to my mom, as she pokes at her phone. The only reason why we are here is because I got a new job; at a gas station. There is really no reason why we should be celebrating this job. This job can be done by a monkey. I watch as a waiter stands in front of the crowd, and suddenly everyone stops talking, hoping their name would be called.

"The Kalat party." She says holding menus against her stomach. I tap on my moms arm and she looks over to me.

"That's us." I smile, as I get up. My mom walks behind me, we meet the waiter, and the crowd goes back to talking. We walk past the bathrooms right as soon as my older sister, Haley, comes out, wiping her hands on her pants.

"This is a nice place, they probably have towels in there. Probably even someone to hand you the towel with a mint on it." I say knocking into her lightly. My mom seems to have made her way in front of the waiter stopping at each empty table, asking if this on is ours. My mom is probably one of the most controlling people I have ever met.

"Nah, they had one of those air dryers, but there was someone who did take give me a mint when I left." My mom finally reaches the table we are suppose to be sitting at. We make our way into the booth, as the waiter places menus in front of us, but two alcohol menus go over to my sister and mom, since I am only nineteen. I scan over the menu, and all I could think is what my dad would like, or what he would try. He always tried new things, he hates doing the same thing over and over again. He once said 'kill me if I do the same thing twice in a row'. But someone else did the job, even though he has never done the same thing twice.

"Should I get the fried chicken? Or spaghetti?" My mom asks her eyes running down the menu. I shrug my shoulders, looking at my options on the menu. "I'll just get both." She says setting down her menu. Ever since my dads death my mom quit going to the gym, and started eating more. I have never really seen her cry about my dad, food always mended her heart together, until she was done eating, and then her heart broke all over again. "How has therapy been going?" She asks as the waiter makes his way over, she looks over to my sister as she asks for a raspberry iced tea.

"I'll have a Coke." I smile, as I hand him my menu already knowing what I want to eat. My mom orders a beer, and chocolate milk. Which is a weird combo. The waiter nods taking all of our menus from us. I nod my head, trying to find the answer to my moms question. Therapy has been the same as always; very little progress. The therapist apparently has a hard time opening me up, all I want to do is stay hidden. "Not as well as I hoped, the progress is taking a long time I guess. I don't really feel like anything has really changed about me." 

"Why don't you just open up?" She says it like it was simple, like I could just unlock a safe and I could share my life with some stranger.

"It's not that easy," I try to explain. 

"Yes it is, just tell them what you are feeling when they ask you a question." My mother explains, but that safe is going to stay locked until I want it to be opened. 

"Lets just drop it," Haley insists. "How was your day mom? Was the cafe busy?" 

"Same as usual." She looks down at her phone, her whole life is on that thing, sometimes I just want to pick it up and throw it at her. I look over to Haley who is looking at herself on the blank television screens.

"Are you seriously checking yourself out right now?" I laugh, my eyes bulging out my my head. She looks over to me shrugging.

"Why not?" She replies. The waiter brings our drinks over and my mom takes a big sip of beer. I take a sip of my coke through the straw as Haley goes back to checking herself out. My family is quite messed up, we used to be the perfect family with the white picket fence, but even then I hated our family. It was like the only thing we knew was how to be fake. But now looking at my family now, looking at how they cope with death, it makes me wish that we where still fake. 

"How about dinner ladies?" The waiter asks pulling a notepad out of her apron. Before I could answer my mom interrupts.

"I'll have fried chicken, and the spaghetti." She nods writing it down, she looks over to me.

"I'll have the chicken, with fries." She nods.

"And you ma'am." She says looking over to Haley.

"Cesar salad." I watch the waiter walk away, her ponytail swaying back and forth.

"How is college?" I ask, I am taking a year off from school, I just feel like I have done enough learning, and just to jump into a school I will be living at for the next four years. That just seems a little stupid too me, but I am not the sharpest tool in the shed anyways. 

She looks over to me resting her elbow on the table and looks over at me. "It's okay, a lot of parties though." I nod my head, parties, drinking, hot guys, seems like the life. But that probably only happens once a week, I would rather have that stuff everyday. But so far, I haven't been to a lot of parties like that. The types of parties where you catch people kissing each other in every corner. Where do you even find a party like that? "Like yesterday, I was at this huge party, and all the guys took off there shirts!" She almost squeals, I roll my eyes. You could just find stuff like that on the internet, but I bet it was probably better in real life. 

"Do you think I am ready for that type of stuff?" I ask looking down at my drink. Right now I am working at a gas station, I didn't even get the job for restocking the shelves. College couldn't hurt.

"Order to get into all of that wild partying, you have to chug a whole bottle of vodka." I can actually imagine Haley standing on top of a bar drinking the vodka. She has always been the partying type, but I could never see myself drinking alcohol. 

The waiter comes back with our food sets it at each one of our table spots. I dig into my chicken, popping it into my mouth. Damn this chicken is good. "Why did you even apply to a gas station job?" She makes a disgusting face when she says gas station. 

"Because I need something with flexible hours."

"No, what you need is a boyfriend. You are getting lonely, and I bet if you get one, you will open up to your therapist." I shake my head, I don't believe boys will solve everything. Mostly it's because they make it worse sometimes. And I don't want to take any chances. "Fine, be alone for the rest of your life, working at a gas station." She continues after a while. Doesn't sound any worse then where I am right now.