Liam

Chapter 11

As I open the garage, I pray that I wouldn't see the little black car in its usual spot. I pray that my parents wouldn't be home yet, and I could have the house to myself and use that time to prepare for whatever was going to come next. But, I have no such luck. The thing was, I really didn't know what was going to come next. It could go either way. My parents would pretend like nothing had happened, and I would play along and pretend that everything was hunky dory. Or, it would pick up where we left off last night with a lot more tears and yelling. And, to be completely honest, I don't know which one bothers me more. I mean, you would think it would be the first option, but sometimes, it just pisses me off and makes me feel uneasy. How you can say something like that to someone and just pretend that it didn't happen. But, then again, it's not like I really wanted a continuation of last night, so really I was torn.

Tentatively, I opened the door, and cringe as the loud squeak echoed through the mud-room. There goes my plan of trying to lay low, maybe even make it to my room without anyone knowing that I was there. But, it turns out that I had nothing to worry about. My dad was back to his old self. In the kitchen, eating a bowl of chocolate cookie dough ice-cream, and watching football. As I walk in, he asks me how my day was, and I say the usual, "Fine, how was yours," which he replies with a long-winded explanation about his clients, and even cracked a few jokes. He seems to be in a good mood, and although I was uneasy, and quite frankly a little upset, I decide to just roll with it.

Then, my dad looked at his watch. "You're home late. What were you up to?" he asked. Not in an accusatory way, more just curious. My parents have never been super strict about where I am, as I don't really go out much anyway.

"I was just at the high school soccer game," I replied casually. He seems to do a double take.

"Who'd you go with?" he asks.

"Oh, just me," I say. He looked confused, but I guess he decides not to say anything. For a while, he tried to get me to hang out with more people, but eventually gave up.

"Well, I hope you had fun," he said, turning back to his football, and that was the end of our conversation. The first conversation that we had after we had yelled at each other which left my dad probably venting to my mom, and me on the bathroom floor with a razor.

Anyway, I head upstairs to take a shower. The bike ride there and back, in addition with Liam's sweaty hug, left me not smelling the greatest. The shower is a great place to think, but when you are trying to avoid your thoughts, it is like an echo chamber. A place where you get trapped with your thoughts as the bounce off the echoey, steamed up shower walls, and right back into your ears. And, that is what I knew was going to happen. I almost don't take anything lightly. One of my greatest talents is over-thinking. And, right now, I had a lot of things to over-think about. Just some of these things were Liam's hug, my dads yelling, Daniel's situation, my situation, and the little red marks on my arm.

I get undressed, slowly stripping off every piece of clothing, becoming more vulnerable with each. I shiver and turn on the water, allowing it to warm up, as I locked the door. I stand there for a minute, watching the room fill up with steam, and then I hop in the hot water. The hot water feels good for about .2 seconds, and then I feel something stinging. I look down realizing that it is the cuts on my arms and thighs. In an effort to stop it, I make the water colder, which soothed the cuts, but made me shiver in discomfort. I made this shower a fast one, which bonus, only left me a little time in the so called, "echo chamber."

When I got out of the shower, I wrap myself in my towel, and threw myself on my bed, phone in hand. I was planning on scrolling through Instagram for a little bit. I didn't have the energy to get dressed and dry my hair at the moment, as pathetic as that sounds. As I'm scrolling past pictures of girls in prom dresses, boys at sports games, families on vacation, and the occasional meme, I get a text. It's from Liam. Not that it was a surprise. He is the only one that ever texts me. Well, besides the occasional text from my mom of course.