Beth is having dinner with me and my parents a lot; it's now a regular thing.
Post-dinner, I suggest we play scrabble. After Alex and I spoke, I actually managed to beat David, which felt good.
I lay down a word I'm proud of because it has the letter 'Q' in it, which is worth ten points.
"Q-U-E is not a word," Beth says.
"Wait, what do you mean? That's a word."
"No, it's not."
"I don't mean like a musical C-U-E. It's like a line or whatever. Q-U-E."
"No, that's wrong," she says.
"Well, how do you spell it then?"
"I don't know. But it's wrong."
She almost sounds agitated or something. It's weird to hear her like this.
"Do you want me to look it up?" she asks.
"Sure," I say.
She pulls out her phone and googles it.
"Yup, Q-U-E-U-E. That's the correct spelling. Not Q-U-E."
"Cool, glad we cleared that up," I say. My tone is harsh.
"Well, if we're going to play, let's follow the rules."
"Yeah, God forbid we don't adhere to the sacred rules of Scrabble."
"Please don't use God in that context. And don't pretend you don't know it bothers me."
"I'm sorry... what's going on? Did I do something wrong or—"
"Besides spelling the word 'queue' wrong?"
She has this expression on her face, almost like she's enjoying being rude or something. Or like she wants to fight. The way I see her suddenly shifts. I don't want to look at her. It's strange, unfamiliar. I've never had this feeling before.
"You just seem moody," I say.
"I'm moody?" she says. "You've barely said a word all night."
"I don't always have something to say..."
"Okay."
"I just mean, you're over a lot these days. I don't always have new things to talk about."
"I'm sorry, do you not want me here? I can leave."
There's a frailty in her eyes. I don't want to hurt her. She needs me to be kind. She just lost her mom, I can't forget that for a second.
"Of course I want you here. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be in a weird mood or whatever. I just felt like you were mad at me, just now."
"It's okay," she says. "I'm really tired, I think."
"It's cool."
"My dad was stressing about having to go to my Aunt's for Christmas this year, who he doesn't get along with, and I could hear him pacing out in the hallway until like three in the morning last night."
"That's annoying," I say.
"Yeah, well, just another weird little by-product of my mom being gone, I guess."
"Hey... I love you."
She takes a deep breath in, exhales.
"I love you, too.
YOU ARE READING
Alternative
Teen FictionTim's public high school experience thus far has been characterized by bad grades and the total absence of a social life; he's listless and needs a change. So, after grade eleven ends, his mom decides to enrol him in a bizarre, little alternative sc...
