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I THOUGHT that when I'd see my dad again I would be more angry. But I don't want to feel anything. I hate the fact that my dad, of all people, is here and Emily knew. I came home last night and she was sitting in the living room watching T.V. I looked at her and she smiled at me like how she usually does and there was a moment that I thought maybe we can just ignore what happened because I really can't handle this right now. But I can't ignore it, no matter how much I want to.
By the time I came home I forced every once of emotion away. I expected my dad to disappointment me but I never thought my sister would too. She asked me how my day was and I responded with one thing. "I know you're in contact with Dad."
I open my bedroom door and walk into the kitchen. I have a few minutes before I have to go to school. As I pour some orange juice into a cup I hear a door creak behind me. I don't acknowledge it, already knowing who it is. "Nick we should talk about what happened." She says, walking into the kitchen. I stay silent and move to put the juice back into the fridge.
I feel her eyes on me the whole time until I hear her sigh. "Nick can you please just talk to me?" she begs.
Me and Emily weren't always close but when it was just us we formed a good relationship. But now I feel lied too. I turn around. "We should have talked when you first got into contact with him. But you didn't say anything to me. You didn't even tell me that he was here in New York." I pause, taking a breath in. "You said nothing to me and I had to find out from him with his new wife. Do you know how fucked up that was?" I look at her, the feelings I was trying to suppress are coming back. "You said we were in this together, that I wasn't alone and yet you do this." I pick up my bag and move to the apartment door. "So much for that togetherness." I close the door shut on my way out and try to stay out of my head.
The whole day was off, it was like I was on this outside looking in. Everybody was enjoying themselves and there was me, faking it out of habit. I know it's cliché but it really is so much easier to pretend that things are good than having to explain all the fucked up shit that's going on.
School ended and I'm on my way to Claire's last class. She said she wanted to meet up with me to talk. I approach the class and I see her walk out. Claire shoots me a smile and we start up a conversation on our way out of the school. "What's been going on lately? You've been kinda out of it." She says.
I take a minute before responding. Do I really want to tell her all the shit that's been happening? She's probably just asking to ask and not really expecting me answer it seriously. "Nothing much." I casually respond. She gives me a look, okay I could have been more convincing. "You can tell me Nick." She knows me too good. She knows how much I hate to burden others with my problems. I do open up to her but my mind keeps telling me that she doesn't care.
"Come on Nick." Claire continues. She looks at me, and with that look she reassures me and my doubts about her.
"My dads back." I say and I see her eyes widen. "Yeah, he's married and my sister knew about him and she's been in contact with him since he's been back. Also I like a straight guy who likes someone else." I haven't told anybody this. Too caught in trying to get through each day. How did living become such a chore?
