S A R A

Ch 23

23

I realized that I didn't have nearly all the things that I needed at my dorm, considering I only moved before the weekend. This meant that I had to go home.

Home...

I slowly walked up to the door, and turned the knob even slower. To my horror, my parents were literally sitting there in the living room by the door. To my advantage they were in a meeting with a snazzy looking finance-kinda guy...Were we moving again?

Either way the dude with the spiky hair prevented a lash out for at least a little bit.

I tried to hide between the little wall separating us, but then my dad said out loud

"This is our daughter, Sara." Practically forcing me to step out and shake his hand. My parents wouldn't say anything about me being gone for the night, not in front of him.

"Hi, nice to meet you," I said, shaking his hand and putting on as best a smile as I could.

"Very nice to meet you," the man got up to shake my hand. He wasn't much older, probably still in his twenties. Typical mortgage-broker looking bloke.

I turned around, wiping the frozen smile off my face and went upstairs to the den , practically counting the minutes I have left until I really get it.

I lay down the couch and looked up at the ceiling. Trying to recollect my thoughts, but failing to do so. My mind, racing from one place to another. My tongue, stinging. My lips so dry, I realized how dehydrated I was, and probably still a little hungover.

Before I knew it, the strange man made a comment about how good my dad's coffee was, the door opened and closed and my dad's voice boomed from downstairs.

"Sara," I stood still, wanting to see how long I could prolong this moment before having to face the consequences. On one hand, I was already an adult. And on the other, I was still their child and - "Sara, I know you know what this is about. Come down here. Don't make me go up."

I exhaled, ready to face my life choices. Somewhat, and slid off the couch and took my time getting down the stairs. My parents, sitting on the couch as before, told me to take a seat. Effectively replacing the mortgage man. This was a tad intimidating. Should it have been?

"We both know what happened here, so let's not beat around the bush. Where were you last night?" My dad asked diplomatically.

"Why didn't you let us know you'd be gone, or call me like you always did before? As long as you're living in my house, you're living under our rules." My mother added, more frantically.

"Okay, technically, I'm not living at this house anymore. Only on weekends, which is a rule I'd like to change anyway."

I didn't know where to start, what to say, so I just sat there silently and looking in-between my parents. The people I loved most.

"Say something," my mother was getting more impatient.

"I'm seeing someone." Good start. Not too revealing, but impactful enough.

My father cleared his throat, and mother straightened up a bit.

"Well, in that case, what is his name?" My dad began with the questions.

"How did you meet?" Mom asked.

Why did it feel like I deceived them all this time. Either way there was no turning back now.

"His name is Haden. He is a musician. Yes, he has a house. And we met through a gig."

"Oh great!" My mother threw her hands up in the air, "a musician. Just what we needed, another one. How is he going to support you?"