Calum & Keegan

pt 6: meet the parents

— Calum's POV 

  I feel like I haven't seen her in months and yet I watched her drive away from the airport merely hours ago. Spending close to a year with each other makes me miss her in every second that passes. Mali, my sister who looks identical to me, is keeping me company but my mind keeps drifting between listening to her update me on her own music and Keegan. The way her hair waved after running around in the rain and ignoring our manager's warning of a cold. Her eyes in the sunlight and her glowing skin that had deepened from sitting outside hotel pools weekly. I'm inevitably in love with her and I couldn't find the words to say it. It's too soon. I'm only eighteen. She's only sixteen. Too young to know what love's about. 

  "Calum," Mali startles me and her expression gives away that she had been waiting too long for a response. "Did you hear anything I just said?" She asks, furrowing her brows in a way that reminded me of Mom. 

  "If I'm going to be honest, no, but I am sorry," I apologize, hoping that she'll claim I'm just jet-lagged from being on a plane for a whole day.

  "Are you okay?" She questions, her face going from annoyed to concerned with rapid speed. She grabs my hand and squeezes it. "You can tell me anything, Mom won't hear," she whispers low to hide from Mom's keen ears listening in the kitchen while cooking. 

  "I'm fine, just tired," I smile and squeeze her hand back. I'm not going to tell her about Keegan today, she'll find out later. 

  "Let me know if that changes," she suggests, but I ignore it and get up from the familiar childhood couch, walking to the dining room. 

  I smile a little more genuinely as I take in dad sitting on at wooden table, reading his newspaper and his glasses slipping down his nose slowly. I take a seat across from him, looking over one of the kitchen counters that connect the two rooms. Mom is too excited that I'm finally home and decided to prepare one of my favorite meals. I sit in the mostly silent room contently, just admiring the sound of my father's breathing across from me and my mother's humming. I had missed so many of these peaceful moments on tour, is it worth it? My mother walking up runs my thoughts away as she places a hand on my hair, ruffling it, then bending down to give me a kiss on the cheek. 

  "Next tour, you have to check in on us more, we've been missing you terribly," she admits and sits down in the chair at the end of the table. My father looks up from his readings to look me in the eyes and nod his head. 

  "I'll try my best, it's always so busy on tour, mom. I've been missing you guys like crazy," I confide in her, trying my best to not think about the short time I have at home. "I would like to fly you guys to see my shows more often. Especially since we're headlining our own tours next year." 

  "I know, sweetie, but with our jobs and Mali's new home in London, it's busy here too. It doesn't hurt to try, though," she offers and I nod along, ensuring to myself that they'll come to at least the Sydney show. 

  Dinner goes smoothly with talking about the time I've spent away and the places I've seen. Mali asks the most questions about the stages, venues, and friends I've made. One question in particular makes the whole room freeze when I hesitate to answer.

  "What's Ashton's little sister like? She's really pretty,"  Mali states something I've known for months while twirling her fork around the spaghetti bowl in front of her, looking up at me like she could read my mind. 

  "She's-uh," I laugh awkwardly and take a sip of water before continuing, making mom and Mali open their mouths in shock. "She's sweet," I choke back and glare down at the place mat on the table.