I Don't Do Sadness // Jyrus

dysphoria

As Cyrus was walking home, his tears didn't dare to fall. For he was now in a place where they weren't welcomed. He's cried for many reasons in his neighborhood before. Over beside the bumble bee mailbox when he fell off of his scooter. At Brian Kemble's 6th birthday party, he cried when his balloon popped. But this was a stupid reason to cry. He couldn't cry over a boy.

Once he turned into his dark, paved driveway, he braced himself. He walked up the concrete steps, pulled open the storm door, and gripped his hand on the brass doorknob, pushing it open. It smelled like apples inside. The only sound that he heard was his mother in the kitchen. Cyrus slipped off his shoes and hung up his bag, stepping into the kitchen to see her.

"Hi, sweetie!" She said with her warm smile. "How was your day?"

Cyrus shrugged before sitting at the counter. "It was good," he told her.

She flew to the cabinet and pulled out a mug. "Hot chocolate?" She asked, to which, Cyrus nodded.

He sat in silence waiting for her to pour in the hot water. She stared into the cup as she stirred and took a breath. "We have another fitting tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" He groaned.

"Tomorrow."

"I've already picked out a suit," he whined.

She handed him his cup and placed her hand on her hip, staring him down. "Well, I don't like that one so I scheduled another fitting."

The air was tense and silent for a minute before his mother stepped away from Cyrus and over to the counter opposite him, looking through the mail. "Your Aunt Susan RSVPed today. She's bring all of the kids."

Cyrus perked up from his cup, worry washing over him. "No!" He sighed.

He got up and went over to his school bag, pulling out one of many binders. This one was labeled "Bash Mitzvah."

"She can't bring them all," he continued, walking back to the kitchen. "We won't have enough chairs at her table. We'll have to get her another one or add another chair to everyone's table."

His mother rolled her eyes. "Cyrus, we don't have that many chairs."

"I know, that's why it's a problem!" Cyrus took a deep breath before coming to a resolution. "Just have her tell Jack and Jazmine that it'll be too boring. And that James has to stay home and watch them. We can order more sweatshirts so that they can get one and not feel left out. And we can give them extra candy, too."

His mother smiled and stepped towards him. "That's my smart little boy," She said, tousling his hair. He hated that.