Unlikely ✓

Ten: Boyfriends? Boyfriends.

POV: Nathan Westmore

I couldn't sleep.

It wasn't all that shocking when I thought about it, taking a nap when I got home and then expecting to sleep well in three hours was wishful thinking at best.

As usual, I turned my TV on and re-watched some episodes of Grey's Anatomy for the past few hours.

Sometimes I thought of watching something else and maybe not rewatching a series for the twelfth time or whatever it was at this point.  For whatever reason, the show helped calm me down in a way.

Even if it was season nine and the first few episodes made me want to cry for hours, even after knowing what happens it didn't make me feel any better when I watched it again.

I wasn't sure what time it was at this point but I knew if I laid in bed any longer without going to sleep I was going to lose bits of my mind.

I got up making sure to take my blanket with me when I walked downstairs.  I hated getting up and walking around when everyone else was asleep, it was like every creek of the floor or the sounds of me walking down the steps was so much louder when I tried not to be.

At first, I walked into the kitchen making sure to turn the lights on.  The last thing I wanted was to walk into the island or drop my cup and have to clean up glass at two or three in the morning.

I quickly got a glass of water and went to go back to my room, when I was passing the living room I noticed there was a lamp on.  I wasn't sure how I didn't notice my mother the first time, but I didn't.

Instead, I turned around on the steps and walked into the living room, taking a seat next to her.  She was reading one of her new fantasy books.  This one had what looked like a purple dragon on the cover, but I could have been wrong who knew with her books.

"Couldn't sleep?"  She asked not looking up from her book.

I laid my head on her shoulder not really caring that I looked like a five-year-old who just had a bad dream and was stuck in an eighteen-year-old body.

She finishes reading her chapter and lays her head on mine.  We sat like at for a moment before she got up and I followed her to the kitchen.

"You get the mugs," she stated.

She put the kettle on and grabbed some of the tea I brought home for work, every once in a while.  Sometimes we would stay up late and not be able to sleep so we would have tea.

My dad and sister were the weird ones who preferred coffee instead, but I wasn't judging.

Okay, maybe a little.

Either way, we got the tea and headed back to the couch.  She went back to reading and I rested my head on her shoulder again.  It was a nice moment.

One where I didn't feel like I needed to grow up, worry about anything, think about whether or not I liked girls or if I was bi or something.  Then it made me question why it mattered.

I was, however, one of the people who liked to label things—for the better.  It made me feel better having a name for it and instead of that I was currently just being a confused mess and it bothered me a lot more than I would have liked.

"How did you and dad start dating?" I asked.

She put her book down and thought for a moment.  She probably was wondering why I asked her that out of the blue, especially when I didn't like talking about romance stuff with people, not even with Mandy.

"Well, I was in college," she pauses as if she was just remembering it herself.

"I was a bit more out there then.  So one night my roommates—I had two at the time—decided to go and fill the car of one of the professors we didn't like much with eggs and anything from the store we could buy to mess up the car."