Through Your Eyes [SAMPLE] ✓

33 • Beacon of Light

» love yoυr parenтѕ.
we are ѕo вυѕy growιng υp, we oғтen ғorgeт тнey are alѕo growιng old «

—anonymous

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Chapter Thirty Three

The next morning, Asa was up bright and early.

In fact, it’d be pretty safe to say that he’d barely slept through the night because of the knowledge that today, once school was over, he’d be hanging out with Carmen.

Of course Willa was going to be there, but he figured that was a blessing in disguise because lord knew he’d be tongue tied for the most part of the evening if it was just him and Carmen hanging out. He could almost picture himself just staring at her with awestruck eyes as she probably told him about another reason why autumn was beautiful.

Somehow, it was different than the one-on-one moments they shared during the rides back from school. Which meant that today would be marked as the first time he would be officially spending time with Carmen outside of anything related to school.

It sort of made him giddy. It also sort of put him in an unusually bright mood that he was up before his parents and he actually went all the way and prepared breakfast for all three of them.

He’d just turned around to place the last plate on the table when his mother stepped into the kitchen with a baseball bat in her hand at the same time.

Her jaw dropped open the exact moment Asa’s eyes widened in shock.

“Qué estás haciendo?!” both of them barked in unison, looking at the other like they’d sprouted another head.

“What am I doing?” his mother asked, looking offended. “What are you doing?!”

“Geez, ma,” Asa let the sarcasm thickly coat his words, “you tell me. What does it look like I’m doing?”

She narrowed her eyes, and wagged the bat at him. “You keep running that mouth of yours and you’ll find out just how handy a baseball bat can be.”

Asa’s nose scrunched and he frowned at the object in his mother’s hand, “wait, why do we have a baseball bat? Nobody in this house even watches the damn sport.”

“Watch your mouth,” she glared, obviously sick of asking him to speak in a decent language.

“Do you know how innocent the word damn is compared to the way other teens speak?” he asked wearily.

“You are not those other teens,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, “and neither am I their mothers. Now, what is all this?” she gestured with the bat towards the breakfast table.

“Breakfast?” Asa suggested.

His mother closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t deal with you sometimes.”