Halfway In Love (#Wattys2016)

22 - Because boys don't cry

<Update : 16/09/16>

A/N: Hi everyone!! Sorry for the delay but a lot of college work came up. Anyway... I'm happy to have been able to bring this chapter to you. I hope you like it!!

And don't forget to make me happy by clicking on that star! :)

Happy Reading :)

Until next time!! 

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Chapter 22 - Because boys don't cry

Callum

Too many days. It had been too many days since I played. Since I went to school. Since I have been out of this wretched house and away from my parents.

"It's important you know -"

"Oh for God's sake Liv! Not you too."

This had been our conversation for the last few days I had not been allowed to do anything I wanted to.

I hated that I was treated like glass.

Like I could fall and shatter any moment.

I hated to see the fear in Liv's eyes whenever I talked about playing.

I hated to see the victorious glint in mom's eyes.

I hated to see the disappointment, disgust and disapproval in dad's voice.

I hated that I had landed in this situation.

I hated that I was sick.

"Cal dear?" Our housekeeper poked her head in. At the age of fifty with a kind smile and a much kinder heart, she was the only one who made this house habitable. I was pacing in my room, too bored to do anything and too tired for yet another brawl. But I guess I couldn't delay it any further.

"Yes Marie?" I turned to smile at her. A rare thing in this household when my parents were around.

"Your mom wants you down for breakfast." She said opening the door wider.

"Can't I have it here?" I asked hopefully. She gave me a helpless and a pitiful look. I sighed. "Fine."

She mussed up my hair a I passed her in the doorway and my heart ached with longing.

Mom watched as I came down the stairs following my every move with concern as if she expected me to fall any moment.

With concern? Yeah, right.

Ignoring her I made to move towards the dining hall, wanting to get this over with.

"Mom! What are doing?" I said exasperatedly. She seemed to be walking closer than was needed and I understood why.

"I haven't had an attack in days! You can stop worrying now." I said, pulling the chair and sitting down. Dad was already in the head seat, reading newspaper, which he lowered upon hearing our voices. His gaze turned the way it always did on seeing me. Like I'm some hopeless, worthless person he has been unlucky to have as a child. Right now, he felt I was wasting his time being sick. He would rather be earning money than worry about his son.

"But you don't know that you never will..." Mom pointed out getting seated as well. Marie started assembling the plates in front of us.

"Do you like, want me to?" I raised an eyebrow, "Because hell, you sound you do."

"Mind your language! And don't forget we are your parents. We only want what's best for you." Dad boomed.

"And that means no basketball?" I asked, pain evident in my voice. Basketball was all I ever knew. I had always tried to keep them happy with my grades, thinking that maybe one day they'll accept my passion. One attack of seizure and my hopes were slipping through my fingers like sand.