My parents always told me to chase my dreams, but I think that lately the only dreams they want me to chase are the ones they think are "worth my time", as they so lovingly put it. Well, actually, the only dream they don't want me chasing right now is the one that I already have in my grasp-Owen. Owen is my first real boyfriend, and he also happens to be amazing and perfect and just an all-around great guy. However, my parents do not see him that way-my dad says that he is not up to my level and I am pretty sure my mom doesn't like him because whenever I mention him she says, "Uh-huh" and grits her teeth in what she thinks is an inconspicuous way.
It doesn't really help that I see him every weekend and that he and I are pretty much made for each other from everybody else's point of view. He is over for dinner just about every Saturday, and every time he comes over he is Mr. Manners and makes sure to do some major butt-kissing to both my mom and dad, and sometimes even my sister Whitney (she still hasn't told him that she likes him just fine and he doesn't need to do that. Coincidence? I think not). However, ever since my parents found out that he was in juvenile hall for a little while for punching someone and was-and sometimes still is-practicing anger management, they assume that I simply too normal for him. However, I don't think they understand that, because of the rough times Owen has gone through, he understands me and my complicated story. I think that is one of his most endearing qualities; the way that he understands me and the way that he knows when to be quiet, not give advice, and simply listen to me.
Therefore, when I need to rant about their unfair judgment of Owen after a particularly anger-inducing Saturday night dinner with my parents, I decided to call him on Sunday morning. However, when I called him all I got was his voice mail. I thought this was odd; he wouldn't be at work for another five hours, until four o'clock and his phone was practically glued to his side since he and Rolly and he and I were all texting 24/7. I was disappointed, so I decided to go to the park and jog around the track…that was what I needed to think or vent, or just relax. When I got there, though, I saw something that not only confused me, but made me more than suspicious. Owen and a really pretty girl were talking under a tree on a blanket. I got onto the track, thinking he would notice me and come and talk, but when I looked back over all that was happening was her giving him a hug. So much for jogging at the park.
*****
When I got back home, I instantly called my best friend in the world, Clarke. She was always good at calming me down and making the best out of any situation. She also possessed a talent that I do not-she does not jump to ridiculous conclusions. I had to dial her number three times because my hand was shaking so much that I couldn't press the right buttons. I'm not sure if it was shaking from anger or nervousness or just pure confusion, but whichever one it was it was a bad sign. However, when I was finally able to dial the right number I got voice mail for the second time that day. I hung up and screamed from frustration. Where was Clarke when I needed her?
I went downstairs for my last resort-Whitney. Normally it is suicide to interrupt her when she is gardening but I had no other choice. She was the only other person I could talk to about what I had seen. Once I got down to the backyard, she was almost done-just finishing her last plants, the azaleas. I took a deep breath, worried about what she might tell me and even more worried that she might slap me for interrupting her, and went up to her and said, "Hey, Whitney, I know you're busy but I really need to talk to you. It's about Owen…" I trailed off, already cringing-she had a hose in her hand, after all-but then she nodded and I took that as a sign to tell her everything, starting from the difficult dinner last night.
By the time I had finished, making sure to add in every detail, no matter how unimportant, we were sitting in lawn chairs and drinking ice tea. After I had finished she was quiet for a while. Just when I had thought she had fallen asleep with her eyes open or something, she said, "Ya know, Owen is probably just stressed out about work and school, and it doesn't really help that our parents hate him. Maybe he was just talking to someone other than you to get advice-just cause you two are a couple doesn't mean he can't turn to other people. And sometimes girls are better at things like this than guys. I wouldn't panic, just talk to him later and ask him what it was all about." You know, I hate to admit but sometimes Whitney is really good at this stuff. I thanked her and went upstairs to freshen up-I was going over to Owen's house to see just what was going on. No matter what Whitney said, I still thought the situation was a little fishy. Maybe a little controlling, but I had learned enough about guys to know that you cannot always trust them, no matter how much you may want to.