Crash (PTB Writing Challenge #1)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly after that. I always felt a momentary panic attack between each class, terrified that I would see Jackson again. Luckily, my second, third, and fourth periods were devoid of unusually handsome new kids.

I went as far as hiding out during lunch just to make sure I didn't see him, which may have made me question my sanity a little bit. I mean, why was I hiding from this very attractive guy right after giving him my number?

I rolled my eyes at myself as I grabbed my geography book off my bed, sticking it back into its spot in my bag. I thought about going for a jog to clear my head, but my mother's shrill voice echoed through the house: "AMY, COME HELP YOUR MOTHER, PLEASE!"

I groaned. Why did Phillip have to be coming over today. I already had enough drama to process for one day. And now, I couldn't do the processing in the first place since my mom wanted some 'quality time' preparing dinner together; not that it really would be. These kinds of things were more just to assure her that she was being a 'good mother'.

"Alright, I'm coming!", I shouted back.

****

My mom and I made basic spaghetti, which took all of about twenty minutes. All of the other food (breadsticks, those jalapeno cheesy bite things, sauce, etc.) had all been either brought in from somewhere else or popped into the microwave. So much for cooking.

The food was laid out properly on the table, set for five places instead of the usual three. I had a feeling similar to disgust that I was participating in this scene to act out for Phillip and his girlfriend.

My mom, dad, and I sat in silence at the table, steam rising off of the spaghetti sitting in front of us. Eating together was an unusual occurrence, and none of us were sure how to pass the time before Phillip finally got there.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and wrung my hands in my lap. I started to think of excuses I could come up with for leaving, when my mother spoke up.

"So, Amy, how was your day?" She placed her hands gingerly on the table, smoothing out a fold on the embroidered tablecloth, but keeping her eyes trained on me.

I looked up. "It was fine", I said quietly, barely making eye contact. A few more seconds passed and I felt guilty about being so off-putting. I worked a small smile onto my face and said with a little more confidence, "Thank you for the eggs this morning, they really helped to get through the day." It was a silly comment but I knew it was what she'd want to hear. She beamed her winning smile at me.

"Oh honey, you're so welcome. I knew it would do you some good!"

"Yeah I should probably eat a bigger breakfast more often."

And as quickly as it had come, the conversation had stopped. The awkwardness began to settle in again, when I heard the sound of a car turning into our gravel driveway.

"Oh that must be them!", my mom chattered excitedly. My only thought was Really? Who else would it be? But I didn't say anything.

I looked to my dad, since my mom had quickly left the table to go look out of the window near our front door. He had a big smile on his face, and in his own way looked as excited as my mother. My father had always been close to his youngest son. He felt like he had raised him to be a good man, with good values and an appropriate appreciation for beer and sports.

The doorbell rang and I looked at the door, where my mother took a few seconds to compose herself before opening the the door. My father stood up to join her. I had a good view of the door from where I sat, and I could see our honorable guests in all their glory standing inside the doorway.