Brooks POV
To my mother's wishes I've made it through the most awkward family dinner I've ever had without mentioning Sydney. The conversation stayed light and mainly focused on Layla to her disadvantage.
"So, Layla...hows uh, how is the season going? Sectionals are next week aren't they ?" I ask her as I pick at the lasagna on my plate, my nervous eyes shift to her face.
Her eyes slightly dim, "It's going well. Excited for sectionals, we have a pretty good chance of winning."
Curious about her reaction to my question, I study her face. Volleyball is usually a safe subject to touch on, Sydney told me they had a loss, but only one in an entire season is still a pretty great accomplishment. My answer is given to me as my Dad ever so kindly butts in.
"Not if you play like you did against Taylor." My dad scoffs. Layla looks down at her plate, redness filling her cheeks.
"That won't happen again Dad, I told you it was just a bad game." She says quietly.
"I would hope so, they got three spikes passed you and your first serve in the second match was way off the sideline."
"I know Dad, I told you I was sorry." Layla holding back tears looks up at him quickly before returning her eyes to the table, she's usually not as sensitive to his criticism, both of us had grown used to it even though it is coming out harsher than normal. I am to blame for that and all the tension bubbling around the table and the guilt of it weighs heavy on my chest.
"Don't be sorry, just do your best to not let that happen again." He tries to stay calm but his reserve is fading.
A small tear comes from the corner of Layla's eye but she brushes it away as my Dad continues, "Maybe you need to be getting some more practice in, rather than hanging out with your friends at the diner."
"It was only a couple hours, we went and got some fries. I was upset, you know...because we lost." She defends.
My mother and I stay silent as they exchange their conversation. I'm unsure of what to say, I'm already in hot water with my dad so my input will just push him over the edge. Of course, my mom won't say anything either, she runs from confrontation harder than you would run from a burning building but I feel for Layla and I wish I could help, I'm just not sure how.
"So spending time with your delinquent friends instead of coming home to your family is the best option?" His questioning became more intense as his eyes burned into Layla's face like he could force her under his will with only a look. I've seen that look before, and usually, it works.
My dad has always been intense but I have never seen this side of him. It's as if the more pushback Layla and I give against the control he has always had over us the more he unravels right in front of our eyes.
Tears start streaming down Layla's face. "You have no right to say that about my friends, they have always been kind and respectful to you and Mom."
"That is correct, but I'm not stupid Layla, I hear the stories about what goes on at that lake house. I know they drink and God knows what else. You are better than that, better than them." The reserve was gone and he plowed on to full-blown lecturing.
"What is the matter with you?" She drops her fork loudly on her plate meeting his eyes with an intensity I've never seen before but have recently felt.
"Layla Ann Dawson." My mother finally interjects.
"What? He can say whatever he wants about whoever he wants. He can judge my friends, and Brooks's relationship but we can't question any of his choices?" Her voice shaking.
Sitting back and letting my little sister take the lead on this one I watch as the words tumble from her mouth. I'm not sure if I want to smile or crawl under the table. All of this outspoken conversation is new for the Dawson family and I'm not sure what to do about it all.
"You watch your tone, young lady." The sternness in my father's voice grew deeper.
"Sydney, Quinn, Maddie, and Kelsey are good people. They are always there for me and always support me win OR LOSE." Her hands shake along with her words.
"Those girls have no respect and I can see they are finally rubbing off on you, first him, now you!" He points his finger at each of us. "My job as a father has been to try and prevent you two from becoming a product of this disrespectfulness but look! Here we are!" His hands now flying through the air like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Both of you acting like a bunch of ungrateful brats because you have let these people into your life that don't have any clue how to show self-control or responsibility." He stands up his cheeks flaming red, retreating to his office, the echo of the door being slammed radiates through the kitchen.
Layla and my mother both cry in their seats, I clear the table as Layla jumps to her feet rushing upstairs.
My mom pushes herself from her seat, "Are you happy now Brooks?" She cries.
"Me? What did I do other than exactly what you asked? I said nothing!" I reply defensively.
"You started this entire mess, you're infatuation with Sydney Graves has set this whole family ablaze. Until this whatever..." she flings her hands back and forth in the air, "it is between the two of you our family could sit and have a meal together! Now....now it's just nonstop arguing!" Flustered and crying she also rushes up the stairs, another door slamming.
I'm standing in the middle of my childhood home with my jaw practically on the floor.
How did this become my fault? I think to myself.
Why is it so wrong for Layla to lose a volleyball game and for me to love Sydney?
How is that the worst thing that we could ever do?
The expectations my father has for his children are so over the top we feel like we must win to please him and the judgment he has towards others makes it feel like we are up on some pedestal. It's ridiculous amounts of pressure. A kind of pressure that has always left us believing that we must follow their every instruction or piece of advice so that everything around us doesn't crumble to pieces. It's like they have wanted us in this state of fear that makes us believe without their approval we are nothing, we have nothing. I never realized until now, how sheltered I have let them lead my life. How much confidence in myself and in my decisions they have stripped away because I've just always done as they told me I should do.
Unable to understand the complexities of my parent's thought process I finish clearing the table and make my way to the yoga mess of a bedroom that I have waiting for me.
I text Sydney before I go to sleep telling her goodnight, she had told me Quinn was staying the night earlier but part of me wished that I could go back there, sleep on that small little couch just to be closer to her but I know she needs time with her friend. I close my eyes that night with a pit in my stomach, unsure if it was missing Sydney that has me in knots or if my mom was right and all of this mess is my fault.
***
The next morning I got out of the house before anyone else emerged. I went for a run, showered, and made my way to my girl.
I didn't figure she would be awake this early, I mean it was 9 am on a Sunday, and we still had a good two hours before Syd was gonna wake up on her own but I wanted to spend as much time with her today as I could before I had to leave.
I stopped in at the local convenient store to grab a quick coffee and saw a cooler full of daisies from the local flower shop for sale for $1. I picked out a white one and paid for it along with the coffee. I drove to the Graves residence, Mrs. Graves, who insists that I must now call her Pam answers the door and allows me to go wake Sleeping Beauty.
I tiptoe up the stairs and crack the door to Sydney's room open. Her mouth is wide as she drools on her pillow, blankets all around her, her brown hair pulled up into a messy bun, the hood of a black sweatshirt peaking out above the covers. I smile as I recognize it, the sweatshirt I had on when I got here Friday and forgot to grab when I left.
I lean myself over her placing the single daisy close enough to tickle her nose. Her hand reaches up to push away whatever is causing the irritation and those blue eyes slowly peek open when she feels the stem of the flower. Crouching down farther I'm inches from her face, "Good morning, thief." I whisper softly, and a sly smile spreads across her lips.
"Possession is nine-tenths of the law." She whispers morning voice heavy in her words as she pulls the sweater closer to her face, the whole thing ready to consume her seeing as it's about three sizes too big.
"It looks better on you anyways," I say as I kiss her forehead.
"Hi." She sweetly says to me tapping the bed next to her as she pushes the daisy to her nose. "Thank you for the flower."
"I saw it and it made me think of the ones I got you the night we uh...the night...at... at my Dad's office." I blush.
Smooth Brooks.
"You mean the night we had S-E-X ?" She takes time enunciating the last word.
"Sydney! Be quiet, your mom could hear you." I whisper shout at her as she erupts into laughter.
"You should see the look on your face. Don't worry Princess she spends her Sunday morning emptying the DVR of Hallmark movies. She didn't hear me."
"Don't call me Princess" I frown at her.
"I'm sorry baby, come here." Her short little arms pull me into her as I shift mine around her waist.
"You're drowning in this thing" I laugh realizing just how big my clothes are on her.
"But it's comfy." She smiles.
"So what do you wanna do today?" I ask.
"I get you all day?" Her eyes grow three sizes and beam at me with such excitement.
"Well yeah. I made it through an entire afternoon and family dinner at my house. I'd say that should suffice for this visit."
"Yay!" She claps and then reaches up placing a soft kiss on my lips.
"Any ideas?" I ask again.
"Ummm...well I typically spend Sundays here in bed binging TV but I did that yesterday with Quinn so I'm up for whatever."
"How about we go for lunch? I've never actually taken you out yet."
"Hmmm...a day date with Brooks Dawson. I wouldn't even know what to expect." Sarcasm seeped into her words.
"Get your butt up and you'll find out." I tickle her around the waist.
Giggles escaped her body as she pushed me back and jumped out of the bed, "Okay, okay! I'm up." Her tan legs on display from under the darkness of my sweatshirt make me reach down and adjust my pants. Noticing my stare she bites onto her bottom lip and twirls around.
"Like what you see Mr. Dawson?" A flirty smile spreads across her face. "Sorry but I'm taken. My boyfriend is actually taking me out on a lunch date."
"Lucky guy." My eyes greedily take in the sight of this girl in front of me. I scoot to the edge of the bed so that my legs are hanging off touching the floor. My hands reach out for her, knowing how risky this is with her mom downstairs but I can't help but touch her soft skin...even if it's just for a second.
I rub my hands up and down her legs as she pushes them between mine.
Her hands on my shoulders she leans down taking my earlobe very softly in between her teeth, leaving it with a kiss. My skin igniting at her slightest touch, her face centimeters from my ear she whispers, "Now get outta here so I can get ready for my hot date." And with that she swiftly turns away, leaving me, and stepping into her closet.
"You're gonna be the death of me, woman." I throw myself back onto her bed giving myself a few seconds to regulate my heartbeat and to stop the blood from pulsing too well, you know where before I head down the stairs to wait with Mrs. Gra...Pam, to wait with Pam, for my girlfriend to get ready for our date.
Wow, my girlfriend, Sydney Elizabeth Graves is my girlfriend.
Feels pretty damn good to say.