Don't Let Go ✔ (Editing)

10 - Dinner pt. 1

The following night, I went downstairs to see if dinner was ready, and I found my mother dancing like a crazy teen listening to her favorite band. It was definitely a sight to see. Her hands were flying and so was her hair – which is highly unsanitary. She wore the biggest smile on her face, then she began to mouth the words to the song playing from her phone. I have never actually seen my mother like this, and it is so weird.

Her eyes finally landed on me and she immediately stopped, but she continued to move her hips. I grin at the sight, "Wow, mom, you're extremely happy for Alfredo tonight," I tell her as I glanced in the pot. My mother continued to smile and dance as she turned the spoon around in the pot. I slide onto the stools at the kitchen island, taking in the smell of the delicious food, and my mom's happy face.

"Or are you just happy because I'm here... which would be a pretty damn good reason."

"Yes, of course I am happy you're here, Ethan, you're my son, it's compulsory," she says, then begins to laugh afterwards. I tried to find something to throw at her, but resulted in just sticking out my tongue. My mother continued to laugh before saying, "Actually, I've invited someone over tonight."

"Really, who?" I ask, leaning my elbows more onto the counter, so I was close to her.

"A friend from work."

"Wait... like male friend from work?" I rose an eyebrow and sat back in my seat. My mother let out a soft sigh, already knowing how I felt about this topic. It's not really my place, but I don't want her dating. I don't think any guy could just come in here and try to replace my father.

"Ethan, sweetie, it's just one dinner," she says, turning off her phone's music, which has just become extremely annoying. I stared down at the ground as I tapped my fingers on the counter. I hope she knows that I'm completely angry with this. I don't want to meet some random guy from the hospital who I barely even know and is really ugly and homophobic. I'm not up for that. I seriously would rather to go to the hospital and stare at the patients than sit through this dinner.

"Mom, I'm sorry-"

"Ethan, please. Just stay for about ten minutes, then you can go to your room, okay? He would really like to meet you and he is a really nice guy."

"Seriously?" I raise my eyebrow, "He wants to meet me?"

"Yes."

I roll my eyes, biting my tongue to ask the question I really want to. She probably just mentioned me to him and jumped to the conclusion that he'll be a perfect father figure for me. I don't even need a father figure – I'm fine. The only father figure I'm willing to have is my own; but that's obviously not going to happen, so no thank you.

Just as I opened my mouth to say something, my mom interrupted telling me to watch over the food as she goes to get changed. She's a horrible hostess. Her dinners always suck and her annual, small house parties suck even more because it's usually adults. I always found somewhere to be every year she threw those things.

But now she's planning a dinner. A dinner which I knew absolutely nothing about, may I add. I didn't even know she was interested in a guy at work. I haven't seen her being flirtatious with anyone, so I'm definitely shocked. But then again, for the past two weeks I haven't been really communicating much with her – so I guess I'm to blame for that.

Time passed slowly and it felt as though my mom went to actually sew the clothes upstairs. I had time to have about three different conversations on the phone, and she still wasn't ready. I refuse to go up because my legs were killing me from walking down about half an hour ago. I decided to set the table, but was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. I was tempted to leave him out there just standing, but then the thought of how happy my mom was when I first came down, and her wide grin clouded my mind of devious thoughts. So, I found myself lazily opening the door.

I hadn't plan on getting dressed, but the way his eyes went down my body made me question that decision.

Is he judging me?

I'm wearing a simple red and black plaid shirt and skinny jeans, and I'm bare-feet, but that doesn't mean he has to stare like that.

He's tall, with blond hair, all going to the side. He has a slight shade of green eyes, which actually sort of looked good on him. I absolutely hate to say this, but the guy isn't bad looking. His face has that type of "I'm evil' look, but still sort of gorgeous, and I hate that. I can't even picture him in the hospital scrubs, now that I'm seeing him in jeans and a jacket, looking like normal people.

He flashed a smile on his devious looking face, but I remained serious. "May I help you?" I ask him.

"I'm looking for Marie Block," he says, before looking back, "Am I at the wrong place?"

I rolled my eyes before opening the door wider, "Come in, she's upstairs."

He flashed that smile again, before entering our home. I stared at the bouquet of flowers in his hands, and again I rolled my eyes. How cliché. Couldn't he have bought a box of chocolates so mom would take it but then give it to me afterwards because she isn't a chocolate lover. No, he had to bring flowers. What can we do with flowers? Can we eat flowers? No. They'll just grow old and die. Great thinking, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is.

"You're her son, Ethan, right?" he nods, waiting for me to agree. I nod also, "Yeah, and you are?"

"Chris – it's short for Christopher."

"I get that," I nod. I turned around to look up the stairs, and thankfully my mother was descending. The smile on her face made me feel like an asshole for speaking like that to Chris, but I can't change it now. It's obvious she really likes him, but I don't. I don't think I could ever support their relationship.

It's boring me already.

After my mother came down the stairs and accepted Chris' flowers, then awarded him a kiss on the cheek for being a good sport, she led him to the dining area where we eat (well we don't actually eat there, we eat in the kitchen). I dragged my feet along, hoping and praying that something could happen so I don't have to go through with this. I walked straight to the kitchen, deciding to help my mom plate the food, while Chris took a seat at the table.

"Mom, I don't like him," I tell her softly when she arrived in the kitchen.

"You barely met him. Trust me, Ethan, he's a nice guy. Just give him a chance, yeah?" she rose her brows at me. I can't do this. I know I might say something really stupid and Mom would hate me. It's best I just sit out this dinner – I can already foretell it'll be horrible.

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A/N: Above is a picture of Chris.