Flashes
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Random snippets of my life in a series of oneshots.
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A taster:
The first time I met his mum it was unexpected.
The trains had been cancelled back from college so a friend had given us both a lift, me sitting between him and my mate andy in the back. Suddenly he had started to sweat, his normally tan face pale and clammy. I could see the perspiration dribbling from his forehead. He started mumbling incoherently: something about his hands? And his feet? Apparently they were tingling violently to the point of visibly shaking, then turned numb. He muttered nonsense, and scrambled with his seatbelt, which I proceeded to undo. He hung his head out of the window (luckily we were on quiet roads so there was no need to worry about decapitation). The whole event was rather terrifying, and I was convinced he was having a heart attack or a stroke. I managed to get his phones passcode off him and called his mum, but to no avail.
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I got more and more annoyed as he drove up, parked and unmounted his bike. He pulled off his helmet and shook his head, noticing me there staring at him. We just stared at each other, neither moving, neither speaking. He started to make his way up his driveway, not even bothering with a greeting, so I called out to him. "Hey! Where've you been?" I tried not to sound accusatory or angry, and I succeeded. Though I sounded more hurt than anticipated. He stopped and walked towards me. He walked kind of slowly, like he was trying to avoid me. I stood on the steps, fighting the urge to walk towards him so we could talk. Never ever did I think I'd want to talk to him, yet here I was. Once in front of me he stayed at the bottom step, not climbing up further. He said nothing and I repeated my question once again, "Where have you been?" He shifted then just replied with "Out." "Out?" I repeated, getting refueled with annoyance. "That's it? You've been missing all day and all you have to say is you were out?" "Fuck, dude, what are you, my mom? I was out! Are you trying to keep tabs on me or something?" I was angry at him, and started to feel feelings towards him that I haven't felt in months. I stepped down two steps to look at him eye level, ready to argue with him. But, rather than open my mouth to fight, I found myself staring at his tired gaze and freezing for a moment. I didn't want to fight with him, and I saw he didn't want to fight with me-at least, that was my hope. I let my glare fall and closed the distance between us, wrapping my arms around him in the tightest hug I could muster. He seemed shocked, remaining rigid in my arms until I quietly muttered, "I was worried about you, jackass," into his neck. He just sighed before relaxing and hugging me back.
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