A Little More than Just Friends

Chapter Eighteen-

    Last night was one of those nights that I spent tossing and turning, unable to rest because of the amount of thoughts racing through my mind. I guess I was sort of glad it was over, but at the same time I really wished I could rewind back to the beginning of the night so I had another nine or so hours of darkness. I wasn't quite ready for the sun to rise and the day to start, which was only about an hour or so away.

    I was laying on my back, staring up at my ceiling that looked miles and miles away in the darkness of my room. It was as if I was looking straight up into a star-less space; a black canvas that shifted subtly, causing my eyes to strain and move in and out of focus.

    That was, until I heard the glide of my door against the carpet and watched as orange light flooded my ceiling in a triangular shape that slowly grew wider and wider, engulfing more of the room in this soft glow of light. I tilted my head up to see who was there. At first all I could make out was a black silhouette, but the closer they came the more I could make out the familiar facial features.

    My dad had this real distinct nose. It was narrow and came to a sharp point, slightly crooked towards the tip. As he sat down on the edge of my bed, the light that leaked into my room from the hall revealed half of his face, leaving the other shadowed.

    “Everything okay, dad?” I asked, voice raspy.

    “Yeah,” he whispered in this unusually soft tone that sounded fond, almost. “I was just coming by to see how you were before I got busy with getting ready. Amanda told me you had a very honest talk with her last night, and that apparently there was something you wanted to say to me?”

    I inwardly rolled my eyes. God damn woman getting me into awkward situations that I could live without. “I don't know what she was talking about. You know Mandy, she's getting old, her head is all,” I pointed to my forehead and waggled my finger, insinuating she was losing it.

    “Jake, don't be rude.” He scolded.

I groaned, rolling my eyes as I cursed Mandy's name. “Did she tell you that you owe her fifteen quid?” I massaged my forehead with nervous fingers, trying to push away the awkwardness.

    “Yes.” There was a slight nod as he spoke.

    “Then I think you already know what I'm s'posed to say, don't you.” It wasn't a question but a statement. From the look in his eyes I could tell he knew exactly what I had to say, especially when they lowered, not able to look directly at me. Whether that was because he felt embarrassed or ashamed, I wasn't sure.

    “Look, son, I know I'm not the best father and I've not been a great role model or someone to look up to, but,” he paused, probably searching for the right words. These kind of speeches didn't come naturally to him. To be honest, it felt pretty unnatural to be on the receiving end of it. “I want you to feel comfortable to come to me when you need advice, or when you need help or even just to talk. About...teenage stuff. I was a young lad once, too, you know. I had...confusing feelings and–”

    “Dad,” I interrupted, hauling myself up into an upright position. “Me, you and these kind of talks don't really go well together.” I was smiling as I said it. I didn't mean it offensively. “We're just two awkward sods when it comes down to it.”

    He nodded, agreeing. “Alright, that's true.” He chuckled quietly. “Just, I want you to know that no matter what, I will always love you. I know, I know,” he put his hands up in surrender. “That's a cheesy thing to say and I don't want to embarrass you but it's true. It'll never be any different. No matter what.” He stressed the last few words. I knew what he was getting at.