One Month

12. honey

Honey

Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep. Disorder, disorder, disorder.

I push the front door open with my shoulder humming the lyrics of System of a Down's Toxicity while at the same time taking off my headphones, the high-volume music leaking and echoing through the house. After I place my bag by the couch I make my way to the kitchen to make myself some lunch. Once I step inside I'm welcomed by a pair of overly excited hazel eyes and a high pitched welcoming voice.

"Hey, honey! How was school?" She speaks with pretend interest. I can practically hear the struggle she goes through to form the nickname she just gave me.

"Don't call me honey." I retort shooting her a glare she's grown familiar with over the past five years.

"Sit. I made lunch." She calmly replies ignoring my attitude. I take my seat by the kitchen table crossing my arms on my chest and bring my ankle to my knee resting it there.

Tania fills a plate with what seems to be baked chicken and places it on the table before me. I eye the food but don't bother even thinking about touching it. I lift my eyes over to her expecting some kind of explanation about all this weird setup. About her brand new fake attitude, the sudden hospitality, the effort in cooking and the maintainance of this change even when Aaron is not around to see. Or even anything, the tiniest hint, to get me a little further away from complete darkness. I raise my eyebrows at her challenging her but earn nothing other than silence. I don't push her, I don't care that much for it. It's just something that's occasionally troubling my mind.

"Where's Aaron?" She asks me looking around as if I've hidden him somewhere in the house myself for her to find.

"I don't know. Out." I reply maintaining my glare as I lift myself up from my seat to level up with her.

"You two getting along?" She asks finally making eye contact. If I didn't know any better I'd say she actually cares. But I do know better so I only straighten my back before I reply.

"Does that really concern you?" I sneer at her, sarcasm dripping from my mouth.

"Well, of course it does, honey." She replies using a motherly like tone in her voice I haven't heard in years, her expression switching from one of simple interest to one of mild concern. I cringe at the sound of the nickname she gave me wishing I could erase the memory of it from my mind.

"I told you not to call me that, Tania." I snap, the tone in my voice revealing my annoyance and raising anger.

No words escape her mouth this time. She stands here before me staring in my eyes suppressing her feelings keeping them from surfacing. I take a step backwards to extend the distance between us. She watches me as I storm out of the kitchen, pick up my bag and make my way to the door.

"Where are you going? You just got home." She speaks with worry as she steps out of the kitchen, her eyes following my movements.

"Work." I reply without bothering to look at her before I leave the house once again, my mind twice as busy as when I got in.

°°°

I pick up the emptied glasses of drinks, place them on my tray and hover it over my head as I make my way back to the bar.

"Bourbon on ice and two Gin tonics, table six." I say as I reach the bar tender and take the glasses one by one off the tray and place them at the other side of the bar counter.

"Five people, table ten." I hear Mike, the bar tender, inform me signing at that direction with his head while working on the drinks I told him to make. I shift my body to enable my head to fully turn that way but all I manage to see is the thick pillar that's blocking my view from this angle.

"Right." I take the drinks and five glasses of water Mike just placed on the counter before me and carefully place them on the tray before I effortlessly lift it over my head hovering it as I walk my way to the tables.

I head over at table six first, leaving the drinks, then I make my way to table ten where the new customers are. About half way there I stop in my tracks as I get to see their faces.

The first one I spot is Aaron. He's sitting on the couch facing me, black top with a dark blue jacket on, his elbows based on his knees. Next to him on the couch sits Jenny wearing that carefree attitude she always has and laughing with her loud and annoying to me laugh that guys apparently find attractive. Everything on her is pointing to perfection from her hair and face to her fingernails. A bright pink revealing top and a white piece of clothing only she would call a skirt matched with white shiny high heels are concluding her outfit. On the table around them sit the rest of the populars that make their crew. Two of them have their backs turned to me but it's not hard for me to tell who they are. The other one is sitting profile to me. It's Aaron's best friend Dean. He shares the same attractive features and a place in the football team as Aaron.

I swallow all my doubts and urges to run and hide away and continue approaching their table. Having my head bent down I place the glasses of water on the table. They haven't noticed it's me yet.

As I lift myself and stand holding the tray with both hands I see Aaron's eyes shoot up momentarily as he sees me.

"Can I take your order?" I say capturing their attention as everyone turns to look my way.