~Chapter 6~

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I'd gone after school to collect my car from the garage, sighing in relief to see my baby looking all new and unscathed. I reminded myself to research into getting restraining orders on people to keep them away from my car, namely my sister.

I dreaded returning home, pulling into the driveway behind my mums silver Ford ranger and slowly turning the engine off. I continued to slowly unbuckle my seat belt and slowly drag myself out of the car and up the porch to my front door. 

Glaring at my house keys, I begrudgingly opened the door and peaked in through the gap-

'Mason.' I jumped up in surprise, clutching my heart in fright as mum popped her head out from the living room, 'I just received a phone call from your teacher-' she started, I groaned and contemplated turning straight around, getting back in the car and speeding away from the danger of mums glaring eyes and fists that balled at her hips. 

I decided otherwise, stepping through the threshold and slowly clicking the door shut behind me. Slumping against the wall, I peered down at my sneakers uncomfortably, 

'I didn't realize that 'F' was a letter we used in this household' she spoke after a moments silence, her tone was harsh and questioning, I knew her question was rhetorical and to reply would merely get me a swift shoe to the face.

'Well, family does begin with an F, so...' I trailed off as I looked up and saw her jaw drop in disbelief, '-I mean, I- Yeah, I'm sorry' grumbling I began to walk to the staircase but a hand shot out and pulled me back down a stair, 

'No you don't,' mum was fuming now, she gripped my wrist and pulled me into the living room where Amelie sat reading a magazine, seemingly disinterested in our confrontation. 

'I can't believe your attitude since we moved, I just don't understand it!' she yelled, 'It's bad enough having your delinquent sister launching herself around the house throwing fits here and there, but it's a whole new ball game when my eldest son starts to talk back to me' I shrugged, I really did hate being yelled at, my entire life I was taught to respect my elders and that talking back or disregarding what my mum or dad asked me to do was downright unacceptable. However, right now all I could think about was getting away from this situation as quickly as I could, digging out some cheezo's and chocolate and retreating into my bed covers.

'I know, I'm sorry mum' I sighed, pleading her with my eyes to just drop the subject, but to no ones surprise she didn't,

'I have told you a hundred times, Mason. If you want a good job, good prospects, you have to work for it. I mean, did you even attempt to revise for that test? Or were you too busy, head in the clouds playing video games and pigging about with your new friends?' her accusing voice began to grate and I lost my patience.

'Mum, seriously? You complain that I don't have friends, I make friends. You complain that I don't get out enough, I start going out. I get a bad mark on ONE test- ONE-' I emphasized for effect, throwing my arms in the air, 'and you blame it all on what you told me to do in the first place! I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't when it comes to you, and I'm sick of it'.

Taking the stairs three at a time, I launched myself through my bedroom door, flinging my bag onto the floor and locking it behind me. 

What did she expect me to do? Sit around all day being the perfect A grade student or go and have fun with my friends that she so desperately wished I had. I was making an effort, I was a fraction this sociable back in England, back home, I had never had any practice before at balancing these two things, I never had the chance to and she knows that so why can't she at least cut me a little slack?

Running a hand shakily through my hair, I headed for the shower turning the temperature up to hot and peeling my clothes away. I let the water soak my body, revelling in how relaxing it felt being alone and peacefully soothed by the spray, able to forget about the silly stresses a day can bring you.

After getting dressed in some pajama pants and a lose shirt I headed downstairs, I gave some thought into what had been said and to tell you the truth I felt guilty. I wasn't the only one in this house who was going through the changes of moving schools, moving away from family and friends, hell, to a different continent completely! 

I found mum sat in the kitchen drinking a mug of tea, her eyes were slightly red and puffy, instantly I felt my heart swell for the way I spoke to her earlier.

She noticed me stood in the hallway, smiling at me she motioned me to come sit next to her.

'I'm sorry for-' I cut her off, wrapping my arms around her tightly and sighing,

'No, I'm sorry. I know it's difficult for you too, I know too how you get when dad's away at work' she nodded, taking my hand on the counter and squeezing.

'It's all new for you, I don't expect you to do brilliantly and exceed straight away, Mase' I smiled at her, squeezing her hand back in reassurance. Mum wiped her eyes onto the back of her sleeve and stood up, 'Want me to fix you some hot chocolate before bed?', I nodded and watched her put the kettle on, spooning the cocoa powder into her favourite spotted mug. 

'See, I trust you. But if you smash my mug, I'll smash your face' she joked, however her face stayed perfectly straight. 

She came and sat back down beside me on the counter, 'So, have you seen any attractive and dashing young males at school?' she teased, I was glad that my mum and dad knew that I gay. Not that I had decided to tell them in the first place, it may have been my bad judgment but apparently telling an 11 year old sibling about my first crush on a boy in my swimming class didn't go down so well with my parents. 

I was lucky really, at first they were skeptical considering my young age, perhaps being sure that it wasn't just a phase I would eventually grow out of. When I turned 15 and I had my first 'boyfriend' come round, they were openly accepting and treated my relationships as any other normal relationship.

My mind wandered to Christian when she asked this question, I forced down the urge to smirk knowing that mum would cotton on straight away that there was in fact a guy. I forced the smirk also because it scared me a little, why did I think of his after recalling guys I thought were 'dashing'? Christian definitely was not dashing, as dashing would imply manners of a gentleman, which he certainly lacked.

'No...' was the answer I finally settled on, but mum wasn't buying it,

'What about that lad Amelie mentioned? She said you met him at the party and he asked for your number?' she probed, her eyes searching my face for any body language that would give away any lying.

It was at that moment, I internally disowned Amelie as my sibling.

'No, well- yes, that did happen-' I paused, trying to find a way that I could skim around the details without disclosing the kiss, '-but he never called, so, I left it at that' she cocked an eyebrow, '-but he seemed like a jerk anyways.' I added on the end, fiddling with my hands beneath the counter. I always felt uncomfortable lying around my mum, she seemed to be able to read me like a book, as if she had a super lie detector installed in her brain or something.

'Yeah, I'm sure he was, honey'. My heart sunk at her sympathetic expression. I felt my face burn in embarrassment. Great, so now I'm the poor lonely gay guy who can't get a guy to text him the day after. It practically sounded like the perfect story line for a comical, failing romance story, gah.

'Alright, alright, that's enough with the putting down for one day' I grimaced, forcing a laugh as I stood up. Mum hugged me goodnight and sent me on my way with a fresh cup of chocolate, I climbed the stairs and climbed into bed, deciding a bit of reading before sleeping would be a good idea to take my mind off the current situations which seemed to flood my thought constantly and, in the past few days, invaded my precious sleep too.

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