Two hours and a half later we were back home. My feet ached from the heels but they were the least of my worries. My head was pounding and not precisely because I had drunk any alcohol. In fact, I only had boredom to blame for my headache. I hadn't called Justin back, my brain still trying to process everything Nate had said and failing miserably. Why had I taken so long to let him explain himself? Why hadn't I heard him out before? I should've guessed this was all Natasha's fault and Nate had only been the victim – along with me of course, if not more. She kissed him and I thought he kissed her back, but apparently it wasn't like that.
I had contemplated apologizing a few times but never really mustered the courage to go and say sorry. What was I supposed to say anyway? ''Hey, I'm sorry I slapped, humiliated and insulted you for a whole month, can we be friends again?'' Besides, I doubt he would want to be friends anyway since he seemingly still liked me. That was the worst part. My stomach didn't feel alright – this time for real – fruit of too many cupcakes and tea and remorse mixed together.
To add to my already enough amount of problems, Alejandra had come back in the picture, trying to steal my boyfriend. I knew she wouldn't succeed, but a part of me was scared of what she was capable of. I'd rather not think about it too much.
In the end, I had managed to live through the "party" without falling asleep against a wall, which was something considering I had only been able to talk with a few of my classmates. I had been avoiding Ryan everytime he looked my way, but he didn't take the hint. I refused to speak to him. I couldn't even understand how he thought I would after telling my parents I had missed a day of school and after how incredibly annoying and nosy he was being for no apparent – to me – reason. I wasvlucky he was off to see some friends in the city so the ride in the car back home had been more pleasant. I hadn't really participated in the conversation but the rest of my family seemed to have had a good time. Blake blushed whenever the name of a certain Chloe popped up and I had seen him chatting with a red-haired girl during the whole afternoon. "Blake has a crush," I had teased him, making him roll his eyes as we all laughed.
Once we had reached home and after changing into my pj's, I decided it was time to talk to my parents. My stomach knotted as I scanned the possibilities to tackle the question. I should get straight to the point, no beating around the bush and no spilling too many details. Something along the lines of "Mom, dad, I want you to meet my boyfriend". I should be calm. "Who by the way you already know mom, but I lied to you saying he was Kelsey's friend." Maybe I should omit that. Maybe she wouldn't remember.
I walked into the living-room, trying to keep my back straight and my head high, showing no cowardice. Instead, I was looking like an idiot. Why is it the more we intend to look calm, the more we look like we're about to have an attack?
My whole family was sitting in front of the TV watching some movie, until I stood there, blocking their view. All eyes looked up at me in confusion, even Tommy's. I waved Blake with my hand discreetly, signaling him to leave the room. He took the hint, smiling encouragingly at what he knew I was gonna do and picking Tommy up, mumbling something about playing a new videogame.
I cleared my throat, glancing from my mother, "Mom," to my father, "Dad. I would like to discuss something with the both of you."
They exchanged strange looks as my mom reached out to turn the TV off with the remote. "Okay." She nodded, still eyeing me warily. My father seemed even more confused since we don't normally have these serious moments where I interrupt what they are doing to have a parents-daughter conversation. Well, actually, we have never had them before.
They seemed a bit nervous too. I brushed my hands on my jumper subtly, getting rid of the perspiration forming from the tension. And this was not even the real "meeting". I sat down on the armchair across from them, clenching my hands around my knees and sinking my nails on the skin so I was forced to openmy mouth. This sounded easier when I was practicing in my room.
