I Think I Love You

Chapter 8: Brayden

Chapter 8: Brayden

I slam the front door of my home closed. Relief flooding me knowing that the week is over and I won't have to go to school for an entire blissful weekend. Mom pops her head out of the kitchen, "oh great your home we're having spaghetti, hurry up before Callie steals all the garlic bread". "Dammit, who let her have first dibs on garlic bread anyway?", I reply.

"You try stopping her,'' she says knowing I wont.

I let the amazing smell of tomato sauce and cheese lead me to the kitchen where sure enough Callie is trying to steal all of the garlic bread. I sit down and join everyone at the dining table, loading up my plate with spaghetti. Dad asks, "how was school, how was the counselling session?"

I shrug, "it's okay, it's been weird being back but it's fine". Dad and mom both exchange a look that says I wish you would say more. I've been closed off lately, I'll give them that but I know I'm not ready yet. Looking to change the topic I turn to Callie asking how her day was before shovelling spaghetti into my mouth. I can count on her to tell us the longest story about her day, with way too much detail. I smile and relax realizing that no matter what happens in my life Friday night dinners won't change. After what seems like thirty minutes Callie concludes her story where she excitedly proclaims, "I am super excited for the sleepover". Mom and dad just give her a hesitant smile, knowing they can't go back on their word. Dad asks if I wanna help him out at the shop, "I got a new Cadillac and it's a beauty". He is a mechanic and has his own car repair shop. He opened up the shop after coming home from fifteen years of service in the army. He loves old cars and sometimes will get some just to tinker around with them.

I shake my head, " I can't I'm supposed to hang out with Chase and Marcellus we're catching the new superhero film. Next time for sure" I say. Dad continues to talk about his weekend plans, while mom preps dessert.

After dinner and dad beating everyone at monopoly again. We all head to bed. I lay down staring at the fan on my roof spin, thinking about this last week of school. The counselling session wasn't that bad, but then again I didn't say much. The same way I don't at home. Thinking of the counselling session reminds me of Mia. She looked pretty that day. Normally I catch her around school with her hair up in a bun but last time I saw her she was wearing her long dark brown silky hair down. It's not that she's isn't pretty with her hair up, but it was just a nice change to see. I can't believe I was kind of a douche to her when she was right in front of me and I said nothing. I am annoyed that I didn't say hi and ask her how she's been. But apparently, my mouth couldn't translate my thoughts into words. I groan thinking about the whole uncomfortable exchange. It's fine, I tell myself, Mia and I have barely had any conversations before so why should things change now. Plus she probably wasn't interested in talking to me anyways. So really it's a good thing I didn't say a word.

I wake up before my alarm clock goes off. This is my new usual routine. At least I didn't have any nightmares. I decide to get ready for my usual five-mile run. I used to run a lot before but since the shooting, I've been running even more; every morning sometimes in the evenings too. Today I decide to try out a different route. As I go through the neighbourhood I notice how the houses have stayed for the most part the exact same since I was a kid. The only difference is that the trees are bigger now. I've grown up in the same house in the same area since I was born. As I continue to jog, the cold brisk air whips my face cooling the sweat off. The leaves are starting to change colour around this time in October and are shedding like crazy. I don't mind the sound of the crunch under my feet. I slow down my pace when I notice a bunch of flowers and candles outside of a house. Coming to complete stop I take a closer look and realize that this is Evans house. Photos of him and the football team are scattered across the lawn. Alongside them a football and guitar sit by the stairs to the porch. Warily I keep jogging, deciding not to stay longer. I'm running to forget and help me move on, stopping and dwelling on Evans home isn't going to help.