Page 96 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
Yes, thank you so much. It was delicious. But I need to talk to youabout something.
What is it?
Well…my parents prodded me for details about the flowers, and I let it slip that I have a boyfriend.
Ah, how’d they take that? And do they know it was the dude behind the counter at the game shop?
Not great, and yes. My mom wasn’t too bad, but my dad’s kind of…well, an ass. I’m sorry Dev. I hate this.
I know. It’s okay. And trust me, I’m no stranger to it. I dealt with this with my own family.
There was a faint but firm knock on my door, and I sat there, phone in hand and stitches aching from sitting upright, as I debated whether to tell them to come in or go away.
They came in anyway. But thankfully, it was just my mother. I assumed my father was still angrily stewing in the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Her tone was soft but hesitant, like trying to coax a frightened animal. I remained frozen in bed, my lips pressed in a tight line and my phone clutched in my hands. I tried not to focus on how much I’d rather be texting Devin instead of talking with my mother.
“Hi.” I replied bluntly.
“Listen, hun.” She took a seat at the edge of the bed, so our shoulders were less than a foot apart. “I’m sorry about that.”
“What? For Dad?”
“Well…”
“If he’s sorry, then he should be the one to come in here and apologize.”
A long, deep sigh escaped my mother, and I knew she was frustrated with him too.
“You know how he is, Avery.”
Always with the excuses.Being a pompous asshole shouldn’t be treated like a personality quirk.
“But…” she continued. “I still think it’s wonderful that he sent you flowers and food.”
I turned my head towards my mother. “So, you’re saying itispossible that my boyfriend is a good person and not whatever scum Dad believes him to be?”
She didn’t reply to my biting, sarcastic tone, but I could tell by the way she chewed her bottom lip that she was deep in thought.
“I imagine you’d like to see him.”
“A lot more than you two at the moment.”
“Avery…” my mother scolded, but her frustration quickly softened. “You should invite him over. I’ll make dinner.”
“With Dad here? Sounds like a terrible idea.”
“I’ll handle your father,” she assured me. Her gaze flicked down to my phone. “I’m assuming you’ve been texting him?”
I nodded.
“Well, it’s up to you, but let me know if you do invite him over.”
My mother got up and walked back into the kitchen, leaving me alone to ponder my decision. My gut screamed no; the last thing I needed was to subject my brand-new boyfriend to my judgmental tyrant of a father. There would be so much tension at dinner that I doubted I’d be able to stomach any food, even if it was my mother’s amazing cooking.
But my heart ached to see Devin. I needed his comfort during one of the most uncomfortable and painful weeks of my life. Between the fatigue from the medication and the soreness from my stitches, all I wanted to do was be wrapped up in his arms. I doubted that would happen withmy parents hovering around, but I knew I could at least sneak in a quick kiss.
Hey Dev. Sorry, my mom just came in.
