Between the Days and Nights ✔

Chapter 11: Safest & Happiest

Silas

I could feel the back of my eyes burning. Hot tears slip from my eyes down to my cheeks. I quickly wipe them away with the back of my hand, but more keep coming. This is crazy. I never cry. Ever.

I didn't cry when my nanny died. I didn't cry when my grandma died. I didn't cry when I got punched in the throat by some bully kid in second grade. Crying is overreacting and I cannot have distanced myself more from that.

So why now?

I watch as they drive away, her eyes still on me. I know she can see the drops that ran down my face. This is completely irrational. I've barely met her a week ago. Seeing her with Damon only made sense. He's a smart guy and probably knows what a great girl she is. She probably sees in him the well rounded guy I never learned how to be.

"So, you doing alright in school, champ?" My father keeps his eyes on the road, but I can hear the slight threat in his tone.

"It's fine, Dad," I mutter, making sure they can't hear any signs that I've been crying.

"Now, son. You don't lie to me about this kind of thing. Dylan never did. You're failing Physics and you know it." He's always done this. Everything I've ever done was to please the both of them and it's never enough. I can't be Dylan.

I used to want to be like Dylan. Entering high school was a whole new experience for me and he made everything feel so easy. High school just flew by when I was around him, but that was probably because I was drunk out of my mind. It wasn't until recently, until Lane, that I found myself questioning what this all means, what I've been missing out on while I was high or drunk or making out with some girl to prove a point. I've been disgusting. But I can't stop.

Tonight, my parents came back home for a short dinner and then they're off again on some business trip. Or is it for pleasure? I can't tell anymore; they're just always gone. The guys set up for a party to happen some time tonight and my presence is mandatory.

"So, your Father and I ran into the Watsons last week on our trip. Patty and Gerald looked terrific, didn't they, Honey?" She reaches over and squeezes his arm.

"Right, yes, we did. They mentioned that they haven't heard Pamela speak of you in a while. You should try and give her a call." He sounds unconvinced, but my mom turns back and sends a meaningful wink my way.

Patty and Gerald Watson have been friends with my parents for the longest time because they all grew up in the same social class and all have a shared but unspoken belief that their children should remain the same way. They had two daughters, Gemma and Pamela, who coincidentally matched in age with me and Dylan.

Dylan had always been very good at keeping in contact with Gemma, mainly because Gemma was the best female bro anyone can ask for. Without her family knowing, she had confessed to me and my brother that she had no interest in dating or sex, that whatever happens, happens. If her parents, or even her own sister knew that she was asexual, they would freak out.

The problem was Pamela, who seems to have been born to marry future me. The thought of it made me uncomfortable; I barely knew her and from what I've seen, I don't want to know more. A queen of high maintenance and owner of a shrill voice, she could annoy an army into combat.

When I was a little younger, I thought she looked incredibly pretty, with bright red hair that warmed the sun rays and freckles on her little button nose that embellished her soft pale skin. With eyes of a muted green that can only resemble the waters that reach the shores of the tropics, she dazzled me with her intelligence and wit. Little did I know, all she did was speak louder than everyone and interrupt conversations to introduce herself in some manner she must have seen her mother do. It's been years since I've spoken to her, and frankly, I'm afraid of what she's turned into.