Dorm Room 210 [Original]

Dorm Room 210: A Side Dish For Superman 2

He doesn't look at anyone as he cleans his own mess, pinched cheeks of red. Aaron tries to laugh it off and Veronica makes a joke about how clumsy her son is, but Noah is mute to it all, and I can't help but be too.

By the time dessert follows, a store-bought cheesecake and apple pie, silence takes a seat at the table.

Aaron has tries multiple times to talk to Noah, but his son gives him quick responses than appropriate sentences. It's driving me crazy, let alone anyone else at the table. My parents and I used to talk over dinner; loud and annoying to neighbours, but it was that sort of warmth that made the night exciting. Stacy and I would dinner just as cozy, sometimes little to no conversation at all, but the tension wasn't as thick as it is on this table. I decide to break it.

"Why did you invite me to dinner?" I catch Noah's glance from the corner of my eye.

Aaron clears his throat. "I wanted to meet the girl who's sharing a dorm with my son. The invite wasn't intentional until I met you, Lillian. Respect has always been a vital part of the family." 

Noah whispers, "Bullshit."

I smile at Aaron. "Thank you for the invite, Mr Sky."

"Aaron, please."

The chair beside me scraps against the floor. "I'm going to the bathroom." 

"I'm sorry for that," Veronica says as soon as Noah is out of sight, and takes a strawberry with her fingers. "He's just stressed out right about his brother. It's been like that for years."

Well, slap me in the face and call me Superman. "He has a brother?"

Aaron arches a brow. "Vincent. Do you have any siblings?"

"No, I'm the only child."   

Aaron quriks a brow. "I'm surprised you didn't know."

"Noah doesn't say much about himself," and neither do I. "I only know bits and pieces of his life; nothing too personal." 

Looking around, I notice on the walls have no traces of photo's or family pictures, except for a frame on the other side of the room; gold, red and silver swirls decorating the black design of the wood.

I indicate to the photo. "May I?" They nod, and with their blessing, I get up from my seat and walk over to see the frame clearly.

"If you don't mind me asking," I say, not taking my eyes of the frame before me, "how old were you both then?"

"We were both in our early twenties," Veronica says. Her heels tap against the floor until they stand beside me. "It was our first family photo of all of us."

I scan the photo closely: A younger, happy version of Aaron and Veronica smiles at the camera, with both of their sons, too identical in the face. Vincent must've been the blond child standing in front of his mother, showing off his missing two bottom teeth. I smile at the brunet boy standing in front of his father wearing a little suit and bow, his matching smile burning it's way through my chest.

"I can't forget that day even if I tried," she says. "Noah was four in this photo. Vincent just turned eight."

"What happened to him?"

Veronica swallows, hesitant. The small gesture of her head tells me I'm not going to get an answer, which is fine; I don't even know why I asked in the first place. "Were they close?"

"Yes. It's why the events that happened, happened."   

"He looks happy" I note, eyeing the way Noah's smile had a glint to it. 

"They both were."

"He's very smart." I notice Veronica's attention on me. "He's a bright person, quiet at times but still respectful and talented. Honestly, I don't know where he gets it from."

"I know," she says, confidently. "He takes it after his father."

Aaron gets up from the table. "I'll go look for Noah."

"No, it's all right. I can check on Noah. Just tell me which room to go."

When I think I'm at the right door, I knock and call Noah's name. He comes out of the bathroom in seconds; his eyes a little red.

"It was either your dad or me," I say.

He nods.

I point into the direction of the dining room. "Forget about what just happened, it was an accident."

"It's not the mess that made me leave," he says, voice heavy with emotions. He sniffs and wipes his face. "I really can't deal with this tonight. I've made a fool of us by wearing these kind of clothes."

I take his wrist lightly in reassurance. "Dinner is almost over. We can leave as soon as the dessert is gone. Your mum really wants you there."

It may have been the guilt that swallows him whole; it may have been the tone of my voice, or the serious expression on my face. Regardless, he follows me.

The awkwardness takes a while for it to die down, but with the persistence of Veronica, it succeeds eventually.