Page 100 of The Other Brother
I stand there, waiting.
“You and Cody…” Mum says hesitantly.
Oh shit. Here it comes.
“Yeah?”
“You’re just friends… right?”
Here’s where I could lie, give Mum the answer I know she desperately wants. But I don’t. Because denying this thing with Cody doesn’t feel like a little lie. It feels like trying to deny the existence of my right foot.
“Um… we’re a bit more than friends, actually.”
Her face falls. “How much more?”
“Do you seriously want details?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I’m taking it his parents don’t know?”
“No. Of course not.”
She looks down, running her finger absentmindedly across the edge of the basket. “Is it… something you see continuing for a while?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. I mean, possibly.”
“I see.”
“Look on the bright side. At least you know the future in-laws already.”
Mum jerks her head up. “Do you think that’s funny?”
“What? No. I don’t think it’s funny at all.”
Mum’s nostrils flare. “Is that why you’re doing this, Ryan? Because you think it’s amusing to see how Frank and I will react?”
Oh, for God’s sake. So typical that she thinks it’s all about her and Frank. Some of my anger comes out in my voice.
“No. I actually don’t think it’s at all funny. It’s not funny that the guy I—” I swallow. “—the guy I care about has parents who you hate.”
“I don’t hate Frank and Heather.”
I snort. “Sure, Mum. You keep telling yourself that.”
After dinner,I’m in my room trying to make sense of the biology Cody was attempting to explain to me this afternoon, when there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
Dad pokes his head around. At least one of my parents understands the concept of knocking.
“Can we have a chat?” he asks.
My muscle fibers feel twitchy, like my body is preparing to go into fight-or-flight mode.
I lean back in my chair and level him with a look. “Seriously? She sent you in here?”
Dad rubs at the back of his neck. “Your mum just thought I should have a talk with you.”
“If this is another birds and the bees talk, I think we can both agree the first one provided a lifetime supply of awkwardness. We don’t need a repeat.”
