Ode to Bree

Guilt

Unedited Chapter 3 [1]

       Nathan sat at the small dining table in the small kitchen of his small home. His father sat at his right hand as his mother was at his left. They were having Indian food tonight, although he hated spicy foods, he complied just for his father's sake. The curry was burning his tongue, and his glass of water was being emptied quickly.

       No one had said a word to each other once they sat, and it felt painfully awkward.

       "How was school today, Nathan?" Catherine asked her son, her pink lips turned up into a smile.

       His father glanced up at him, and Nathan felt pressured to give her an honest answer instead of a snarky remark. So, with every aching breath he had in him, he breathed out, feeling like a worn out dragon, his mouth burning, but no fire.

       "Ran into some bitchy girls."

       "Nathan..." His father red flagged him. Nathan ignored him, though, and continued to tell his mother about his day, since she politely asked.

       "That's pretty much it. I wish I hadn't run into them, though."

       "Is that all that happened?" She asked.

       "Yep," Nathan nodded.

       "Your father tells me that you're doing really well in school. I'm glad, and you're into music?"

       Nathan shook his head and took another gulp of his water, empty the last drop; his mouth was on fire, and he couldn't talk without taking long pauses.

       "Everyone's into music," pause, "I'm into making music."

       "Have you made any music so far?" She asked with a smile. "I'd love to hear something."

       Nathan hesitated with an answer: so far, he hasn't made any music of his own. Stupid and stinking lyrics that weren't good enough; speaking of which, he had to go meet with Seth later on. Maybe he could pass off his few lyrics, and maybe, just maybe, they'd be good.

       "I'm still working on some stuff. Maybe some other time," he said.

       "Oh, okay," she sounded disappointed.

       Without another word, Nathan got up and left the table, going up towards his room on the second floor. Maybe he was going to be yelled at later, but they let him go off, silently watching him from their seats.

       His mouth was still burning, but he felt relieved to be away from them... from her.

       Maybe his father was comfortable with her now, but he still didn't trust her. Having dinner with her was fine. Obligatory, but fine. However, having her delve into his mind, his work, his passion... how could he trust her not to ruin it for him? To snatch away all the happiness it brought him over the years, it would be a sin, and something he would never forgive her for, even if she was his own flesh and blood.

       Nathan flopped his body lazily unto his bed. He was tired. It was only seven thirty, and he needed to go meet with Seth at the Den; his legs felt numb, and so did his chest. Maybe he never acknowledged it before, but school was tougher than ever now. His grades were perfect, but his dreams were clustered together with his reality: maybe he could lay off of it for awhile, until he was finished with exams. It wouldn't be long.

       "James!" He heard laughter. "Oh stop it!"

       Nathan buried his face into his pillow, groaning as loudly as he could. He knew they couldn't hear him, but he tried to be as loud as he could anyway. There, he decided that he wouldn't be a bum and go to the Den.