The One Summer I Didn't Hate

73.7 degrees

That night Hugo came home to his mother having fallen asleep on the couch. A rush of guilt washed over him once again the second he saw her slightly swollen eyes and the pile of crumpled tissues lying all over the carpet.

Watching his mother sleeping rather peacefully, he wondered what he was going to say to her tomorrow. Apologize? Probably. Explain to her how much of an idiot he was being and tell her that she deserves to be happy and Richard seems like a totally nice guy? Definitely.  Then again, deciding the list of things that he was going to say was easy, but how he was going to say it was a completely different story.

For some reason he couldn’t come up with right words, the right sentences, he had no idea how he was even going to start. Every time he came up with something, his mind would just drift back to him running away and how his mother sounded when she practically yelled at him to come back and then he’d feel guilty all over again and couldn’t think straight.

She must’ve been crushed, he thought as he her voice echoed in his head.

Running a hand through his hair Hugo let out a long sigh, deciding that he was going to try and come up with something in the morning.

He slowly stood up, making sure that he wasn’t making too much noise as he cleaned up his mother’s used tissues that were sprawled all over the living room carpet. The blanket she was using to cover her body fell on the floor and so he pulled it up to her neck. His mother moved slightlyas soon as he let go of the thin fabric, adjusting her position on the couch.

“I’m really sorry.” Hugo uttered followed by another long sigh just before he turned around and headed up to his room.

--------------

From: Summer

How are you feeling?

Despite trying his best to fall asleep, Hugo found it hard to shut his eyes and just drift away. He couldn’t even close his eyes for more than two minutes without him having the urge to open them again. In result, he only got at least about half an hour of sleep last night and he wasn’t even sure if he was asleep or just drowsy.

The wave of guilt and regret kept coming back to him and the more he tried to ignore it, the bigger it grew and the louder the voices in his head got, screaming “you shouldn’t have done it” or “you’re a goddamn idiot”. The

As he lied on his stomach wide awake and feeling utterly restless, he tried to force himself get up but instead only letting out a long, low groan at the sound of his bones snapping. He figured that was how being a zombie must’ve feel like (and possibly look like).

Just as the sun peaked in and the sounds of birds chirping filled the morning air, a text from Summer arrived on his phone. And that was exactly what he needed to wake up.

From: Hugo

I feel like shit

Hugo quickly sent a reply followed by another one.

Mentally and physically

Not a second later, his phone vibrated again.

From: Summer

Have you talked to your mom?

He let out a sigh. It wasn’t exactly something he wanted to talk about this early, especially when he felt like the living dead. But then again it’s not really a matter he could avoid anyway since he was going to have to deal with it sooner or later.

From: Hugo

Can I call you?

He asked without thinking. And not even bothering to wait for a reply, Hugo called her anyway.