We end up deciding that we are going to have everyone over. But instead of worrying about what we’re going to feed them, we order pizza. Henry tries to opt out, but the girls give him the puppy-dog look until he caves. I think it was more that they were pressuring him than the actual look.
As it turns out, with twelve people, four couches and an armchair are just enough seating. Ella and Toby share ‘the beast’ next to my favorite red couch with Aunt Becca, Auntie Riel and Uncle Tripp. (Oddly, they told me at one point that Becca and Riel didn’t like each other. Now, they’re closer to each other than they are to my fathers.) Maya and Brie are on the brown couch in the middle. Dad, Pops, and Nikki are squeezed into the green couch. And finally, I’m sitting with Henry, who still can’t look me in the eye, on his blue couch.
The good news is that he was really good about meeting all the parents. He shook all their hands and introduced himself. He has even held conversation when they start one. I’m not sure he could actually bring something up if it was asked of him, but he’s really trying.
Dad really seems to like him. Every time I catch his eye, Dad raises his eyebrows and motions his head in Henry’s direction. After a while, I narrow my eyes at him, trying to convey ‘shut the hell up’. I’m not sure it works. And by not sure I mean, Dad’s a jerk.
As the conversation continues, (it’s mostly everyone else telling Henry stories about things they’ve done or seen in ‘the business’) I start to pick up some of the discarded paper plates. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Henry start to stand. I know that he’s going to try to help. So before he can, I put my free hand to his chest and push him back down.
When he looks up at me questioningly, I whisper, “They’re getting a kick out of trying to impress you. Just go with it. I can take care of this.”
He nods a little, but then turns his attention to the next story.
“Let me help you with that, son,” Dad says as my hands become full.
Unlike Henry, I know there's no way to talk him out of it. “Alright,” I arch an eyebrow at him quizzically.
It really is only a few plates. And they’re paper. All I have to do it throw them away.
He follows me to the kitchen after grabbing a few. When I try to leave, he grabs my arm and pulls me back. For being as old as he is, he definitely has some muscle left.
“You really like him,” he accuses quietly, nodding toward the living room.
I smirk and shake my head, “You’re really going to have to be more specific. Pops? Yea, he’s a great guy.”
"You're your father's son." He smirks back at me and lets go of my arm, “You know who I mean.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I sigh and run a hand throw my hair.
“Why won’t you like him?” He asks looking straight into my eye, no smile in sight.
“It’s not that easy, Dad,” I shake my head. “First off, he’s my roommate. I can’t exactly sleep with him. He’ll still be around the next day.”
He smacks my shoulder and gives me a dirty look, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m so confused right now,” I admit trying to keep my voice down. “First you tell me I like him. Now you’re telling me that I can’t like him?”
“Liking someone and sleeping with someone are completely different,” he whisper yells.
“You’ve lost me.”
He takes a deep breath and pitches the bridge of his nose, “You are just like your father.”
They both say that every time I do something they don’t like.
I smile again and shrug before taking a step back toward the group. He doesn’t let me go. He grabs the back of my shirt and pulls. He continues to pull as he walks to the front door, opens it, walks into the hall, and closes it behind us. He lets go of me with a little force and I have to take a step back to get my balance.
“What the hell, Dad?”
“When are you going to settle down?” he crosses his arms over his chest and asks without answer my question.
I try to straighten out my shirt and tilt my head at him, “I’m only twenty-three. I have a great job. I make decent money, so I don’t have to live off you. I don’t do drug – I rarely drink alcohol. What more do you want?”
“You’re twenty-three and I’m so proud of your job. I’m glad you want your own life and that you’re not addicted to anything,” he shouts. “But when-”
His sentence gets cut short when my front door opens and Pops walks through.
“Hi, love,” He smiles at dad and then looks between the two of us without closing the door, “I love you both. But so you know, these walls are not soundproof.” He raises his brow for emphasis. He leans back into the apartment for a second and I hear, “El, are these your keys?” There’s a pause where I just stare at Dad. Pops is still talking to people on the inside, “Is there a key to the studio on here?” He stands back up straight and holds out a pair of keys that are not Ella’s. “Here,” he places them in Dad’s hand, “these are Henry’s keys. There’s one to the studio on there somewhere. Go up and argue all you want. We don’t want to hear it and I suspect,” he looks at me and hitches a brow, “you don’t want that either.”
I take the keys out of Dad’s hand and start to walk off. I see Pops kiss Dad quickly before I’m out of view. A few seconds later, Dad’s silently standing behind me as I unlock the door.
As soon as we’re through and the door is closed, he turns on me, “When are you going to stop messing around with so many people and find someone you love?”
“Why is it always ‘love’ with you?” I fire back. “Why can’t I just be young?”
“Being young is fine, Samuel,” now I know he’s angry. My first name is coming out to play. “Playing with people emotions is not. I can tell you have actual feelings for Henry. Why won’t you let yourself?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shake my head.
He chuckles and looks straight into my eyes, “I don’t know if you realize, but other than your dark hair and green eyes, you look a lot like me.”
I fold my arms over my chest, “And?”
“And,” he extends his hands toward me as if he wants to shake my body, “I used to give your father that exact look. Like to a t, that was my Damian face.”
I sigh and run my hands through my hair, “It’s not that easy.”
“It is that easy,” he tries to say, but I’m not hearing it.
“You don’t know the situation.”
He starts to walk over to a couch Ella has up here. When he sits, he pats the seat next to him for me to join. On the way, I see a sweater draped over the chair next to it. Henry must have left his hoodie up here when I was showing him around. I grab it and sit down next to Dad.
“That’s his, isn’t it?”
I look up at him and nod, “Yea, he must have left it up here when I was showing him my half.”
“You let him in there?” he expression is a little surprised, but I don’t understand.
“Yea?”
“When’s the last time you let someone else in there?” he challenges.
I shrug, “I didn’t really think about it. He said he likes to paint, but that he doesn’t have a place where he can. So, I wanted him to know that now he does.”
His eye go round, “You’re letting him use it?”
“Dad,” I chuckle and look down to the hoodie in my hands, “it’s just an art studio. I told him as long as he doesn’t touch my work, he can use it. He lives here now too,” I look up at him and shrug again.
"But Ella's not allowed in?"
"She doesn't paint."
"Right." He smiles, “So tell me the situation.”
“What situation?”
“You said I don’t know the situation. So, tell me.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it.”
“He’s a virgin,” I say before I can stop myself.
Dad tilts his head, “Your father hadn’t liked men before me either.”
“No, Dad,” I raise an eyebrow, “virgin, virgin.”
He leans back and crosses him arms, “That’s not so bad. Maybe he’s waiting for the right person.”
“Dad,” I stop him and then lean back myself. “He hasn’t had his first kiss.”
“That’s strange.”
“He said that he knows when people are attractive, but he doesn’t feel that pull to be with anyone,” I explain. “We talked about this last night. He’s never even kissed anyone.”
“Maybe he hasn’t found that one person yet,” Dad reiderates, looking over at me.
I bring the sweater up to hide my face, “I almost kissed him earlier today.”
When I’m met with silence, I lower the fabric so just my eyes are exposed.
Dad still looks confused, “Why didn’t you, then?”
I take the sweater out of the way, “That would have been his first kiss.”
“Was it obvious that you were about to kiss him?”
“Well,” I turn my graze to his piece of clothing in my lap, “it wasn’t not-obvious.”
“Did he know you were about to kiss him?”
I close my eyes and tilt my head back to the couch, “Yes.”
“And did he stop you?”
My eyes open on their own accord and my head tilts to the side, “No.”
“Then again, I’m going to ask,” Dad catches my eye, “why didn’t you?”
I answer him as honestly as I can, “I didn’t want to ruin his first kiss.”
“Well, I know I’m old and uncool,” he smirks his classic smirk and continues, “but I would think that if he didn’t pull away and he knew you were going to kiss him, you probably wouldn’t have ruined his first kiss.”
“He’s still my roommate,” I’m reaching now and I know it.
Apparently Dad knows it too, “So you have to actually try with him. You can’t just use him and move on.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“So is love, son,” he claps me on the shoulder and stands up. “So is love.”
There’s a knock on the door just as I’m getting to my feet. I walk over and open it to make eye contact with a tall handsome blonde that has crystal blue eyes.
“Hey, Henry,” Dad walks up behind me and pats my shoulder.
His cheeks show a little pink as he says, “Your, um, Dad – no Pops – sent me up to tell you that people are leaving.”
“We’ll meet you down there, Dad,” I look over at him and raise my brow.
He nods and puts his lips to my ear, “Don’t be an idiot.”
This makes me laugh. He just kisses the side of my head and walk downstairs.
I hold up Henry’s sweater, offering it to him, “You left this up here.”
“Thanks.” He takes it, but looks at me, “Are you okay? He kind of yanked you out of there pretty quickly.”
I smile at him and nod, “Yea, my family is nuts.”
“Are you sure?” He looks concerned, “You seemed upset.”
“Now look who’s directly interested,” I chuckle and lean against the door frame.
He cheek flame again and he looks down a his hands, “I didn’t mean to-”
“I’m just kidding,” I interrupt him and tilt my head down so he has to look at me. When I catch his eyes, I straighten back up, “He and I disagreed on something. He’s concerned about me and I told him not to be. He’s just being a dad. We talked in out and now we’re fine.”
He smiles a bit and nods, “You really are close to your family, aren’t you?”
“Probably closer than I should be,” I tell him honestly. “I tell then everything.” Then I shrug and step through the doorway, pulling the door closed behind, “But if I don’t tell them, they’ll tell each other. For example,” I explain as we walk down the steps together, “Pops probably already knows what Dad and I were talking about.” I stop as we get to our front door, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he nods.
“Is it that you can’t like anyone or you won’t like anyone?”
He seems to think about it for a second, but he looks stumped, “I’m not sure. Maybe, I just haven’t found the right person yet.”
Of course, Dad has to be right.
~A/N~
Happy Sunday!