The Boy In My Room

I first heard about it accidentally. I walked in on my parents conversation, well, after I listened for a few moments. I had gone to ask about going to Alexia's house, and I heard my name. What mental person wouldn't listen in?

"Do you think she will be fine with that?" my fathers voice a harsh whisper. I heard a slight chuckle,

"It's not like there is any other choice. Anyway, she's never been into boys at all and I'm sort of starting to worry."

Well excuse me...that does sound insulting coming from my mom. I really do need a life if my mom is saying that. That was also the moment I decided to walk in. I pushed the door, seeing both of them immediately glance up, "Do you need anything?" I was immediately interrogated. I replied in a half laugh,

"Can't I go to the bathroom without an intense question session?" As I closed the door to my parents bathroom, I heard both of them get off their bed and one of them go out. Guess I'm the party pooper. But I still really wanted to know what was going on.

I learned a few days later. It was April, so the flowers were starting to bud and the air seemed heavy with humidity. I was sitting on the wet grass outside when I was called in by dad. I paused my thoughts about how demoralizing it is when my thirteen year old self is criticized on my lack of interest in boys. By my mom. I hopped up the three wooden steps to our porch and entered the five..or maybe its six room house I call home. After I took my, if I may so, awesome, sneakers off, I headed into the dining room, which was where my dad had stalked off to after calling me. Even though the dining room was a table pulled out of the wall in a room that could only fit that and four other small chairs, it was still our official dining room. When I saw my entire family, which happens to be just me and my parents, I cocked an eyebrow. Am I finally going to learn about what's happening? "So..how are y'all?" I tried with a poor Texas accent. My mom raised her own eyebrow one response,

"You didn't hear what your father and I talked about a few days ago?"

Now, two things here I didn't even know about myself until a while ago. 1) I blush at a lot of things but I don't notice myself blushing and 2) I am apparently a horrible liar.

I tilted my head to the side, hoping it would show my (fake) confusion, "Huh? When was this?" My mother dropped her head, sighing, as she rubbed her temples with her two fingers. Might I add, she was starting to have wrinkles. She probably had given up on prying the truth out of me, since she gestured to my dad and told him to tell me. "Tell me what?" I asked, putting a hand on my hips to show I wanted to know then and there.

"You know the Laydens? You met them when you were young," my dad started.

"Dad, I practically never remember anyone I meet when I was young. Give me some memory pushes," I agitatingly replied, removing my hand off my hip. He sighed, just like my mom and provides to give me a list of factoids,

"You went to their anniversary when you were six, they had a huge big white house. You-" I cut him off with a new burst of excitement,

"I remember! That was awesome and I had like five pieces...I mean only one piece of cake" I look over to my mom who is glaring at me, "Continue," I mumble.

"You also met their son, who is the topic of our discussion," my dad ends, and I'm immediately trying to connect this boys with my moms words of,

"She's never been into boys." How are they connected? I am probably totally spacing out or with an intent look of absolute concentration and anger because my mom clears her throat, clearing telling me to get back to reality.

"Okay. I don't remember him out of all the people I met and had fun with," I proclaim, hoping to get them to reveal more information.

"You wouldn't have, he stayed in his room the entire time after you were introduced to him. His parents are, lets call it strict," shaking his head to show I didn't play with him. What a loser is my first and foremost thought. I stay silent, mentally begging them to go on. They look at each other, and my mom is the first to break the four second silence,

"He's going to be staying with us." I am pretty shocked but okay? What does this have to do with that disgraceful comment, "She's never been into boys." Maybe my mom thinks that other girls couldn't deal with living with a boy of the same age, but I can? I am so immature, so that doesn't make sense. I nod, humming a short tune during this moment,

"Okay?..." And I mentally curse (except I don't curse so I just said shoot) because it came out as a question and possibly reveals I know more information than I am letting on.

My mom takes a deep breath, as if to warn for a future hurricane of emotions or whatnot,

"In your room."