Chapter 14: Petty annoyances and a silent celebration

I'm not sure how to explain the day after I went to Aaron's house. Depressing would be an appropriate word, I guess. First, I didn't hear from Aaron. Not even a phone call. Which meant that while everyone else was at work, I was home stressing about it, and it wasn't fun, either. It was strange to think that he'd been able to push practically all of the 'family' issues out of my head just because he hadn't called. But, it was the truth. I hadn't been lying when I said I liked him, and now I felt completely inadequate. There was obviously something about me that he didn't like, and that just made me feel self-conscious. I was a self-conscious idiot. And it sucked.

On top of stressing out about Aaron, there was Luke. We were getting along just fine. There was no problem there, but it was obvious that he wasn't himself. For the second day in a row he'd come home from work looking like someone puked in his lunch box. When asked about it, he just said he was having a bad week, but I couldn't help wondering if his bad week had to do with disappointment in me. Again, I thought about telling him what happened with Aaron, but in the end, I decided that it would only make things worse. It would be best just to forget the whole thing, and hope that next week would be better, for both of us.

There was tension in the house, too. And it had to do with more than the dark moods Luke and I seemed to be stuck in. Eddie and Jase were still fighting. They were definitely doing their best to keep it from seeming obvious, but it was there. They were civil to each other, and they pretended that nothing was wrong, but neither of them could look the other in the eye. The fact that Jase was just as silent around me as he was around Eddie didn't help matters, either. This bothered me, more than I wanted to admit.

I still thought that whatever was going on between them was my fault. Unfortunately, I was starting to care about that. I'd convinced myself that Jase didn't want me there. After all, he said himself that if he'd known I'd be so much trouble, he wouldn't have agreed to me being there in the first place. I was disrupting his family, and he wanted it to stop. Too bad I was just as trapped as he was.

I'd agreed to stay for the summer. I wondered if Eddie would let me go early if Jase told him to. It was an idea, and to be honest, after the last few days, I was ready to get out of there. I was more interested in getting to know Eddie than I'd been before; but it didn't change the fact that he had a life, one that I didn't see myself ever being a part of. I think it was a sad thought, but it was a true one for me. Maybe it would be best if I just got the hell out of there--if I went home.

And that brought me back to my grandmother. I had to call her. I knew I did. There was no getting around it. All I could do was avoid it, and I could only avoid it for so long. I had a feeling that the longer I waited, the harder it would be. That's why on the second day, I found myself locked in my room, even though no one else was home, and picking up the phone.

Maybe it really was the perfect time to call. I was feeling so depressed that I doubted I'd get angry and start yelling. And it would be bad to start yelling. That would likely result in being hung up on, and being hung up on wasn't an idea I liked because of all the questions I had.

Maybe if I was lucky, I'd get some of those questions answered, beginning with the reason why my grandma didn't just do what my mom had asked her to. It would have saved all of us a lot of trouble. I made a mental note to point this out to her as I began to dial the number. Of course, the smart thing to do would be to point it out to her after I got my answers.

One ring, two rings, three rings....

"Hello?"

"I think I hate you." Now, why the hell would I say that? Honestly. I mentally slapped myself, hating that I couldn't seem to control my own tongue.

"Well, hello, Rory," Grandma Alice replied sweetly. "And am I supposed to take it that you're not having a good day?" I opened my mouth to tell her I wasn't having a good lifetime, and it was all her fault, but as usual, I never got the chance. "Are you getting enough fresh air? You're just like your mother, you know. I remember that whenever she got cooped up in a house for too long, she'd always get grumpy. I think maybe you should get out for a while. I'm sure you could find something to go do with your father."

"I don't need fresh air," I informed her, as soon as I got the chance. "I read Mom's letter."

For once, there was a silence on the other end of the line, not that it lasted very long.

"Did you?" she replied. "And did Eddie read his, too? I hope you read them together."

"He read his, but..."

"Good, then everything's fine now. It's about time, you know."

After that remark, I momentarily pulled the phone away from my ear and regarded it like it had just bit me. When I brought it back to my ear, I was far from happy, and found myself cutting off Grandma Alice in mid-sentence as she continued to discuss the benefit of fresh air.

"No! No, not everything is okay! Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what I've been going through? All because you..."

"Rory, I can't understand a word you're saying when you use that tone, now..."

"Don't do this," I practically groaned. "Just for once, can't you just listen to me? You had no right..."

"I did what I thought was best for you," she suddenly said, her voice sounding serious. "That's what your mother would have wanted."

"She would have wanted you to be honest with me!"

"I believe I told you to talk to your father. You're the one who decided to act like a two-year-old. Now honestly..."

I practically growled into the phone.

"Maybe I would have talked to Eddie if I knew the truth!"

"Is Eddie there? I think you should put him on..."

"No, he's not here," I spat. "And even if he was I wouldn't put him on! You're supposed to be talking to me!"

"Well, then perhaps you should call back when you can keep that temper under control. I'm on my way out, anyway. On Fridays there's a young man who helps me carry the groceries to the car. You know, the handsome one--I think you used to ogle him whenever we..."

I hung up, before she could finish and promptly screamed into my pillow, resulting in Chey pawing at my closed door. Why did she have to be like that? I felt like it was impossible to get any answers, answers I needed in order to move on, at least. Or at least an apology. In all honesty, at this point I would have settled for an apology if she just admitted that she made a mistake. I was so tired. Just... really fucking tired.

I turned onto my back, dragging the pillow over my head as I wished that I could sleep until things weren't such a pain in my ass anymore.

"Rory?"

I jumped at the sound of my name and shoved the pillow aside. I was supposed to be the only one home all day, so I hadn't been expecting to see Luke in my doorway. He didn't look as dusty or as sweaty as he did after a full day of work, but he definitely looked like he'd had a long morning.

"What are you doing home?" I asked.

"I'm taking an early lunch," he explained. "Actually, I came to see if you wanted to take it with me. Are you okay?"

I rubbed my hand over my short hair without bothering to sit up and shook my head.

"I just tried to call my grandma," I explained. "Crazy old hag."

"Ouch," Luke remarked, but there were signs of a smile. Actually, it was the first time I remembered him smiling in the last few days. "That bad, huh?"

"Why can't she just talk to me?" I complained. "All I want to know is why she did it. I feel like she's been playing everyone around her like an orchestra--and she knew. She knew what I was going through, Luke, and she didn't bother to tell me anything that might actually help."

"Maybe she had a reason for it," Luke suggested, and I looked at him like he was a traitor. His smile broadened at that and he moved over to the bed where I was laying and I grunted as he dropped his ass right on my stomach. "I didn't say it was a good reason," he continued as he looked down to see that I couldn't breathe with him there, so he shifted downwards until he was more on my lap, which wasn't necessarily a good thing, because all that shifting had brought my attention to certain body parts that were supposed to stay asleep during polite conversation. "Maybe she just doesn't want to talk about it because she's sorry."

"Sorry?" I said incredulously. "Do you know what she did? She asked to talk to Eddie! Why the hell can't she talk to me?"

"Maybe she's afraid to," he replied, and I momentarily held my breath when he shifted again, more of his weight sinking against my groin. "All I'm saying is that maybe you should give her a little time... let her come to you. Maybe she knows what she did was wrong, and she just doesn't know how to talk to you about it, yet."

"You're not supposed to be on her side," I informed him, and this time, I tried to do the shifting under Luke's weight. I just needed to readjust myself; and, it only made things worse when I had to keep myself from gasping as the friction of my movement seemed to hit my cock. It really didn't help that he was over me, looking as hot as always, and the smell of sweat mixed with deodorant was flooding my nostrils in a way that made me light-headed.

"I'm on your side," Luke responded, matter-of-factly. "I'll even buy you lunch to prove it. You hungry?"

Hungry? I didn't know if I was hungry. I was getting a little worried, though. There was no way I wanted to embarrass myself with Luke, the way I had with Aaron, and the chances of that happening in the position we were in weren't exactly slim.

"Sure, fine, whatever..." I responded, somewhat hurriedly, as once again I shifted, only to make things worse. Finally I just blurted, "Luke, I need you to get off." I'm sure I turned all sorts of red when he raised an eyebrow at that. "Off of me, get off of me!" I added, and when realization suddenly dawned on him, he stood up, laughing.

"Oops, sorry," he said, and I just glared at him as I sat up. I didn't like being laughed at.

"Whatever," I responded. I was definitely tired of embarrassing myself, but at least when I looked down there was no noticeable bulge in my shorts.

"Will you relax," Luke responded, and when I looked up I saw a smile on his face, but there was nothing teasing about it. "I would have taken it as a compliment. And I'm serious about lunch."

He abruptly grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet, while I couldn't help taking what he said... as a compliment.

"Dave's not working today, but I could go for waffles," Luke said, as he let go of my wrist at the door and I continued to follow him, shaking off my uncomfortable moment.

"Okay, but aren't you supposed to be working? Do you have time..."

"Actually, I figured out that if you're not on the clock, they don't really care," Luke explained. "As far as I'm concerned at least. I'm the smallest guy out there. No one really takes me seriously yet, and things are slow-moving today anyway, so I might take a long lunch. I already got permission."

"Alright; I guess if you have the time, I could stand to get out of here for a while, anyway," I admitted, and then mentally scolded myself for saying that as I thought of Grandma Alice's fresh-air speech. It would be a while before I admitted to her being right about anything.

...

It wasn't even noon yet, and the diner was relatively empty. Our food seemed to end up on the table twice as fast as it had the last time. And then there was silence. But, it wasn't because we were eating, I noticed. Luke had been talkative in the car, asking me if I wanted to help him and Dave plan Rick's party. It was sort of nice to be included, and for that reason alone, I agreed. But, as soon as we entered the restaurant, I noticed that he'd spaced out or something. Even when our food got there, all he was really doing was poking at it and pushing it around his plate. I figured he wasn't as hungry as he let on, but his behavior was beginning to make me feel like I was sitting in the restaurant alone.

"So where is Dave today?" I asked, attempting to make conversation.

"Probably at home, being bored," Luke replied. "At least that's where he was when I called him a while ago."

"So why aren't you having lunch with him?" I asked curiously, and this question had Luke looking up at me with a strange expression on his face before he shook his head and shrugged.

"I don't know," he replied. "I kind of wanted to hang out with you."

He began to eat then, as if he was doing it purely to avoid talking to me. I found this strange, to say the least, but I didn't say anything. I just stared at him until he noticed it, and after a few moments of staring right back at me, his expression turned determined.

"It's my mom's birthday," he announced, and I found myself putting down my fork, suddenly finding it important to give him my full attention. "Jase always remembers, but he won't say anything. I usually like to be alone... I get kind of bummed out, thinking about it, you know?" he lifted his cup, taking a long drink of his chocolate milk before facing me again. "Do you think it's stupid that I don't mind... I mean... I think I like listening to you talk about your mom... because you remind me of me. But it's sort of morbid, right?"

"I don't know," I admitted. In all honesty, it had never occurred to me that Luke liked it when I talked about my mom, just because he could relate. The only thing I'd ever taken into account was that he understood what it was like. I guess it never occurred to me that he liked that I could relate to him. I felt a little stupid about that, and now, after my response, I even felt stupider, because he was on the other side of the table, looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry I brought it up. I was going to go to lunch alone... I just thought..."

"My mom sent me a birthday present," I told him, before he could say anything more, and he rightly appeared confused. "It was with the letters," I explained.

"Oh... what was it?"

"I don't know yet. I haven't opened it."

"Because it's not your birthday?" Luke asked, the corner of his mouth curling into a small smile.

"Right."

"Aren't you curious?"

"You have no idea," I replied, sighing. "I put it under my bed--I figured I wouldn't think about it so much there. It's not working."

"You could always open it," he pointed out.

"I'm afraid to. It's the last thing..."

"I get it," Luke replied. "Every year on my mom's birthday... she'd ask me to make her cake. I think the first time, I was eight years old and I hated it. She wouldn't give me any help--only with handling the oven. And I couldn't just go out and get one that came in a box, either. I'd have to look it up in a cookbook and make it from scratch; and there was always a huge mess that I'd have to clean up when I was finished. But when we brought it out after dinner, she'd gush over it like it was the best thing in the world; and then I really started to love doing it, you know?" He laughed to himself for a moment, shaking his head as he looked at me. "And then I started getting creative with it. One year, I even got... I got my dad to help me frost it, because I found these two oven-safe bowls and made one that looked like huge breasts. Spice-drop nipples. I didn't know how she'd react but she just started laughing--I miss hearing her laugh. Do you wanna know why Jase doesn't mention my mom's birthday? It's because the first year I was with him I told him about the cakes... and he asked if I wanted to make one. I told him I didn't, but he made one, anyway. I got so mad at him for that. He had no right to do it, you know. When my mom turned thirty-five--that was her last cake, and I made it. I still have a picture of her blowing out her candles..." I watched as Luke took a moment, his eyes slightly rolling back, as if he needed the moment to get a hold of himself, but a moment later, he was smiling again. "It was the last one. Her last time. So when Jase made that cake it felt... wrong. I made her cakes. So now, he doesn't mention the birthday anymore; but I bet you that tonight, there will be a cake waiting after dinner."

"He still makes them?" I asked incredulously. "But if you don't want him to..."

"I was mad the first year," Luke cut me off. "And maybe the second year; but now, I think it's kind of a good way to remember her, you know?"

Luke fell silent, and all I could do was watch him at this point. It was... sad, and a little eye-opening. I wondered if I'd ever find ways like that to remember my mom, or if I even wanted to. I guess when I sat under the water was one way that counted. But, somehow, Luke's way seemed so much more significant. He remembered his mom's last birthday, something he was a part of, and every year, even though he didn't participate the way he used to, it was the memory that came to mind. I had one birthday present left to open from my mom. As soon as I did that, I felt like it would all be over. It would be me, looking for ways to remember how she participated, and I think it was hard for me because... the last time that happened for me, my mom wouldn't even be there. I guess, I couldn't help feeling cheated.

"Hey, Rory?"

"Yeah?" I replied, meeting his eyes again.

"When you open it, do you think you could... I mean, if you want to, will you tell me what it is?"

I studied him for a moment, finding the request a little odd. But, I got the feeling that he wasn't asking just because he was curious. Actually, it seemed important to him.

"Maybe... you could be there," I found myself saying, more or less committing myself to open that package before the summer was over. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but Luke smiled, and then it didn't matter.

...

After lunch, I was relieved that the ride home with Luke was filled with more stories, this time revolving around his friends--and there was plenty of laughter. It was the drive back to the house that made me realize that my day was taking a turn for the better. I was grateful that Luke had come by and included me in his outing. I think I was grateful that he'd chosen me to discuss his mom with, too. Something about that made me a lot more comfortable talking to him about... anything. Not Aaron, though. I wasn't ready for that, and I don't think Luke was, either. Even if things had gone bad with Aaron for me.

There were other things, though, that I wanted to talk about. Things I hoped that Luke could help me with. I wanted to talk about the way that Eddie and Jase were fighting. Only, by the time we reached the house I realized he'd be going back to work. But, it was probably for the best. He'd left in a considerably better mood, and left me in the same state. It wouldn't hurt to bring up Eddie and Jase later. Besides, it was Luke's mom's birthday, and there was no way I wanted to add to his stress, especially since an hour and a half with him seemed to have relieved a lot of mine.

I'd gone straight to the television after Luke left, determined to spend the rest of the day keeping my mind as blank as possible, maybe taking a break every once in a while to scratch Chey's ears. I pretty much planned to do nothing until everyone got home, at which point I hoped that Luke would want to hang out again. Even after everything that had happened, he was probably the best friend that I had there--or anywhere, for that matter. I'd been there for two weeks and it hadn't even occurred to me to call any of the people that I hung out with back home. I wondered if that was normal.

I started to hope that I wouldn't have to wait so long for Luke to get back from work when I went upstairs for some water about fifteen minutes later and I heard a vehicle outside. Maybe he'd decided to blow off the rest of his work day. I certainly wouldn't have minded if he had. But, when I went to open the front door, hoping to meet Luke there, another face met me, and I did everything I could to plant my feet in the doorway, as opposed to running back inside to hide. In fact, I closed the front door on a now barking Chey to prevent myself from doing just that.

Aaron smiled at me when I met his eyes. Why was he smiling at me? Actually, what the hell was he doing there? It didn't make any sense, not after the last time I saw him. I think it scared me, that he'd suddenly shown up. It scared me more when he didn't come to a halt as he neared me.

"Hi," he said, his smile broadening. I opened my mouth to respond. I didn't have a polite greeting in mind, though. But, it turned out, that it didn't matter. I never got a chance to say it, anyway, before he was nearly stepping on my feet, and I was looking up into brown eyes, feeling as confused as hell as he dipped his head down and kissed me pointedly on the lips.

There were so many things wrong with this scenario that I didn't even know where to begin.

Kissing him back didn't exactly really feel like the right place to begin, but that's exactly what happened. It's not like he forced me, either, his hands being hooked in his pockets. It was his lips, coaxing mine to part, and when I felt his tongue mine simply responded. When he pulled back he was smiling again, and I was left speechless and confused. Why couldn't he have done that two days ago?

"It sucked not seeing you yesterday," he remarked, his eyes making a quick sweep over me from head to toe. "Can you get some shoes on? I want to go somewhere before you have to be back home."

Huh? Why was he talking to me like we had plans? What was he doing?

"But I thought... you didn't... and then you..." I hated it when I couldn't form an actual sentence. But at the current moment, I was dealing with an onslaught of confusion as I tried to force down all of the frustration I was feeling towards him.

"Okay, you're doing that weird thing again," he remarked.

"I haven't heard from you in two days!" I blurted. "You didn't even call, and you..."

"It's not like you called, either," he cut me off, suddenly looking serious. And I paused. Me? I'm not sure why that thought didn't make any sense to me. Maybe it was because after leaving his house, I was the one left feeling confused and hurt. "Besides, I didn't know if I should call. You were the one acting all strange when I dropped you off the other day."

"Me?" I demanded. "But what happened..."

"You're pissed off that I threw myself at you," Aaron said, sighing. "Look, if you didn't like it then you could have said something, Rory."

"It's not that I didn't like it," I replied, unable to keep from blushing. I wasn't used to this type of subject matter creeping into conversation. "But after... after..."

Whatever," Aaron replied, suddenly sounding annoyed. "I came over to see if I was imagining things the other day. Obviously, I should just go. I thought we were going to try, but you don't even like me touching you, apparently."

"What? I didn't say that!"

Why did I feel like I was getting dumped? Again. And why did it bother me even more now than it had when he'd dropped me off five minutes away from the house?

"And, it's not like you were in a hurry to touch me, either. Look, Rory, maybe you were right before. It's not going to work with us. And you know, that sucks, because I don't see us turning into any normal kind of friends..."