Beside You *Muke*

Chapter 9

Trigger warning: Short abuse scene between Luke and his father.

"Who're you looking for?" Ashton asks with a wide smirk when he finds me scanning the crowd of people outside the bakery doors.

"Michael. His mom wanted to have me over for dinner," I sigh, hands shaking slightly with nerves. "I mean, I have no idea why she wants me over. I mean, the only thing I've ever done for her is get blood on her carpet so I don't know why she'd want me over again,"

Ashton laughs at my comment, patting me on the back lightly and shooting me a reassuring smile. "It'll go fine, mate. You're a parent pleaser. We all know that," I roll my eyes at my best friend's comment, looking down at my shoes. "I'm serious. Just smile a lot and tell her how good her steamed carrots are and you should be set," I can't help but smile at his comment, nodding slightly and meeting his hazel gaze. "Plus, your quiff is on point today, lad. I'm impressed,"

I hadn't told Ashton about Michael's and my date-but-not-date, nor had I told him about my relapse at home. He was stressed enough with his girlfriend and her cheating issue; he didn't need to worry about mine as well. The boy had enough on his plate. My cuts itch, begging to be picked at but I somehow resist. "There he is. Oh fuck, there he is," I squeak, finding the lavender haired boy making his way toward us. "Shit shit shit, Ash I--"

"Hey," Michael greets us, cutting me off with his dazzling smile. I shoot him a nervous one and rip off my name tag, handing it to Ashton who lets out a breathy, amused laugh. "Ready to go? Dinner was nearly done by the time I got here," I nod, looking down at my Vans, scared to look up. Michael and I leave without another word to Ashton and I climb into his SUV which seemed almost ritual.

"So, what'd your mom make?" I ask quietly, the hum of the heating vents almost blocking out my voice.

"Pork roast and steamed carrots," I nod, staring straight ahead, not sure what to say. It'll go fine. I tell myself lightly. His mom has met you before. She liked you. If she didn't, she wouldn't have invited you over for dinner. Although my thoughts were reassuring, I couldn't calm down. This wasn't some meet-the-parents date; Michael wasn't gay.

I sigh quietly, resting my head on the chilled window and wait for the next few moments to come. When we pull into Michael's driveway, my breath hitches in my throat. Here it comes. The moment where Michael's mother doesn't have to baby me and sees me for who I really am. the two of us walk into the house, encased in the warmth of the fireplace in the far corner of the living room. "Hello Mrs. Clifford," I greet her when she comes to meet us.

"Oh Luke, you look loads better than the last time I saw you!" The motherly woman coos, making me sport a small smile.

"I feel tons better," I admit lightly. She ushers us to the kitchen table where she had started preparing the food. "It looks delicious," I say once the three of us had gotten settled. Sweat had began to pool on my palms and I wipe them on my skinny jeans, hoping my nervousness wasn't all that noticeable.

"Thank you Luke. At least one of you appreciates my cooking. I swear, Michael, once you finally move out, you'll be living off ramen noodles and you'll miss all the food I cook," Mrs. Clifford scolds, making me laugh and Michael turn a bright shade of red.

"I for one can't cook very well," I admit once we had all dug into the meal. "But I have to admit these steamed carrots are the best I've had. I usually live off pizza and takeout," I laugh.

"What about your mom or dad? Don't they cook for you?"

I feel all color drain from my face and my gaze floats down to my half eaten plate of food. "U-Um, no. My mom's been out of the picture for a while and my dad's always... busy," I mumble, playing with my food.