Dream Boy

Chapter Fifteen

We had agreed that Chris is going to come over at six-thirty for dinner. I was stressed out about it all day, but he was surprisingly calm. I teased him about having to "meet the parents," and he just shook it off. I guess I really have no need to worry, but I am nervous that my dad is going to say something, or be unpleasant.

"Mom, do I look okay?" I run down the stairs, wearing jeans and a chunky sweater, my hair up in a bun.
"Honey, one--he sees you everyday--and two--he asked you out. I think he already thinks you're beautiful." I blush.
"Thanks mom. I'm going to go set the table."

I run into the dining room, wanting to make it look perfect. I place five plates around the table, one for each of my parents, one for Eric, one for Chris, and one for me. I fold the napkins into triangles and place them under the forks. I put two candles in the middle of the table, planning to light them closer to dinner time.

I stand back and observe my handiwork, and decide that it looks decent enough. I run upstairs to find Eric, and he's playing on his tablet in his room.

"Hey, Eric. Can you like listen to me for two seconds?"
"Yup. One, two. Okay, bye."
"Really? Come on, this is important!"
"Fine. What?"
"Okay. I just want you to promise me that you will be nice to Christian, and that you won't burp at the table."
"Whatever."
"Eric!" I raise my voice, and he gives in, putting his tablet down.
"Alright, alright. I'll behave, okay? Do you really think of me as an embarrassment?"
"No, Eric. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I just--"
"I know, I know. Whatever."
"Eric, I'm sorry--"
"Just drop it okay, it's fine. Whatever." How many times can you say 'whatever' in one conversation?
"Okay. I'm sorry. But thank you." He shoots me an evil glare. "Okie dokie, I'm gonna leave now."
I hear him mumble "finally," and I shake my head. Oh, don't you just love tween boys?

The doorbell rings at six twenty-eight. I yell "I got it!" insanely loud, and run for the door. I pull it open, to see Chris standing in khakis and a blue button down shirt, holding flowers.

"Hi. Wow, those are gorgeous!" I reach out to touch one of the flowers.
"Ah, ah, ah! Those are for your mother." I smile at him. That's one way to impress the parents.
"Wow. That was so thoughtful. Come in, come in. Go show them to her--I'm sure she'll want to put them in a vase." I hold the flowers for him while he takes off his jacket, and I hang it in the hall closet while he goes into the kitchen to find my mother.

"Oh, Christian! You didn't have to do that! You are such a sweet boy! Let's go find a vase."
"Told you so." I whisper as he follows my mom into the next room. He just smiles and shakes his head.

"Mrs. Lucas, this is delicious! I've never had lasagna that tastes this good!"
"Well, thank you. But you should be thanking Mr. Lucas. This is his favorite dish to make."
"Oh, well many compliments to the chef." Chris nods at my father, and I see the corners of my father's mouth turn up into a small smile.
"Thank you. Now tell me, what do you really think? I know you are just being polite."
"Dad!" Here we go. "Why would he lie about liking the dinner you prepared?"
"It's alright, Sarah. Mr. Lucas, I would never lie about lasagna. This truly is delicious."
"Alright, whatever you say." I glare at my dad, daggers shooting out of my eyes. He just shrugs.
"What? I just want to know how I can improve." Uh-huh. Nice try, Dad.

"So, Christian, Sarah tells us you want to go into medicine?" Thank you mother for changing the subject.
"Oh, yes. I aspire to help as many people as I can in the future."
"Wow, how chivalrous of you. We need more young men like you in this world." She shoots a look at my brother, who is slouched in his seat.
"Yes, well, not all teenage boys are full of trouble." Oh no. Dad, please don't say anything, please don't--

My dad simply clears his throat, but says nothing. The meal continues pleasantly, with some small talk, and then finally, at quarter to eight o'clock, we move into the living room. Out of habit, I run to the small couch, and yell "mine!" claiming it before anyone else is even in the room. I begin to laugh, realizing how silly I must look.

"Oh, sorry. Eric and I normally fight over this couch." It has two cushions, while the other has three, so I like to lay across it when we watch a movie.

Chris just shakes his head and then comes over and sits next to me, our legs touching. I notice my dad's stare and grab Chris's hand, intertwining our fingers. My dad's face is expressionless; he walks to the chair across from us and sits down.

"How about we play a game?" My mother once again comes to the rescue. "We could play cards, or something. Anyone have any ideas?"
"Headbands!" Eric and I shout at the same time. Suddenly, it feels like things have never changed. It's like I am ten and he is five. I begin to understand why he might not like Chris. He doesn't want someone else to intrude into our family; he doesn't want things to change. He has dealt with Aaron's girlfriends and seems to like Anna enough, but he misses the times when it was just the three of us kids, together, acting goofy and not worrying about how silly we looked.

"Chris?" I turn and look at him, waiting for an answer.
"Headbands sounds fun! I haven't played it before but I'm sure I can learn--"
"You've never played Headbands?" Eric stares at him in utter disbelief. "Oh, you are gonna learn, for sure." And so, we teach him how to play.

"Okay, let's see. Am I an animal?"
"No."
"Can you eat me?"
"Yes!"
"Oh! Am I a fruit?"
"No."
"A vegetable?"
"Yes!"
"Okay. Am I orange?"
"No. You're never going to guess!" After ten rounds, Chris has gotten the hang of it. He is even starting to win. "Beginner's luck," he claimed. "BS." I had said back, receiving a glare from my parents. I mouthed a "sorry," and we continued.

"Am I green?"
"Yes."
"Am I lettuce?"
"No."
"Am I brocoli?"
"No. Time's up!"
"Aw, man! What am I?" Chris pulls the card off of his forehead. "Asparagus? Really?" We all laugh. This has been a good night.

"Thank you so much for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Lucas."
"Oh, it was our pleasure." My mom smiles, and hugs Chris goodbye. She hugs everyone.
"Oh, and Chris, before you go," my dad started, "we have to talk about the car predicament."
"Mr. Lucas, if you're not comfortable with me driving Sarah, I completely understand--"
"Be here on time every morning, okay?" I look at my dad, eyes wide, matching Chris's expression.
"Thank you, dad!" I hug him, and then walk with Chris out to his car. After he shook my dad's hand of course. Men.

"Thanks for agreeing to come to dinner."
"Well, how could I say no to lasagna?"
"Now you understand why I like food so much, right?"
"Right. Well, I better get going. See you tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, see you tomorrow morning." I went up onto my tippy toes and kissed him softly on the lips.
"That was nice, thank you Princess." I blush, grabbing at the sleeves of my sweater. But why did the way he just said "princess" sound so familiar...
"Goodnight, Chris."
"Goodnight, Sarah." He pulls me into a hug and kisses me on the forehead. I don't want him to let go, ever, but he has to. Good things always have to come to an end.