Like Gods

[23] tense dinners

"I always did have a feeling that there was something going on between the two of you," Felicia said, more to herself than to Dylan. Nevertheless, he blushed a bit. Had he been that obvious? 

"Anyway," he said after yet another quiet minute, "how's it going with Maddie?" 

"What do you mean 'how's it going with Maddie'?" 

Dylan looked at his friend. "What I mean, Cia, is what's going on between you two?" 

Felicia looked away, out the window. If it were to hide the blush that Dylan had noticed or that she didn't want to answer, Dylan didn't know. "I don't know, we hang out some." 

"Okay," Dylan answered, not pushing further than he needed to. A few minutes later, he pulled up to the driveway to the Solander residence. It was almost four-fifteen and his mom would probably wonder why he'd been out so late. Or, 'late'. 

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," Felicia called as she threw the car door closed. Dylan leaned his head against the headrest for a moment before he started the drive home, even though he had no desire to go there. 

When he finally parked the car on the driveway, he wished that he'd just decided not to go home at all. The dinner that awaited with his whole family felt more and more like a chore for every day that he was forced to participate and at that moment he would much rather go to the library and study or something.

"Dylan!" His mom called the moment he stepped through the door and he sighed heavily. She sounded mad. He wasn't even that much later than when he usually got home. He hung his jacket in the closet and kicked off his shoes before going into the dining room where all four of the others were waiting. 

"You're home late," she said sternly, standing at the end of the table, hands on her hips and a deep frown, the crease in her forehead making her look at least five years older.

"I was just driving Felicia home and we got stuck in traffic," Dylan defended, fully aware that it was a straight-up lie. Well, the 'getting stuck in traffic' part. "I'm not even home that late." He lowered his eyes to his dad who looked tired and then to Riley, who was shooting a glare toward their mom.

"Dylan, I am well aware that you drive Felicia home, and I'm happy that you are so close, but I also know that you get out at three-thirty and it should not take an hour to get home," his mom said with an anger that was completely unnecessary in Dylan's opinion. He sighed.

"Honey," his dad cut in, placing a hand on his wife's arm, "can we just eat? The food is getting cold and he couldn't have helped getting stuck in traffic." 

"He needs to know that I am serious about this agreement. While William is here, everyone comes home at once!" 

"Mom," William pleaded, instantly getting his mother's attention, "let's just eat." 

She seemed to think about what he said, and after a minute's silence, she sighed. "Sit down, Dylan." 

He did as he was told, grabbing a seat opposite William and next to his dad. There was a tense atmosphere filling the room, but his mom didn't seem to notice. Her mood had changed in a split-second and was now smiling at William, serving him some of the mashed potatoes.

"How was your day, honey?" She asked, putting the pot with the potatoes back down on its placemat. 

"It was alright," William shrugged, "I Skyped with some friends back home- I mean, in Norway." 

He shot a glance over at Dylan who caught the message and smiled down at his food. Moen. Their mother, however, did not smile. Quite on the contrary, she looked as if she had just found out that her pet had died.