Dinner with my parents lasted a few hours. My parents couldn't seem to shut up about Hillwood and how nice it would be to see the old neighborhood. I did my best to feign equal enthusiasm. But when my energy ran scant, I opted to stuff my face so I couldn't be bothered to talk. Gorging myself didn't help my stomach problems, either.

It wasn't until 7:30 that we arrived home, but that still left me with time to visit with Robbie. I figured maybe it would help me clear my head. Maybe it would help to vent. Or maybe I just needed a drive. To get away from my parents and things that reminded me of that place.

"Hey, dad, is it all right if I take the car over to Robbie's? I won't be out too late."

"Absolutely, son." He tossed me the keys like a quarterback. I snatched them from the air with ease and grinned.

"A real arm on you, kid. You're gonna be a star in the NFL, I swear it."

"As long as I have you as my wide receiver." He shot back as he walked off into the kitchen, probably to grab his evening beer.

"Now, you kids don't be screwing around while I'm out." I could hear him snickering at my wit. My mom rolled her eyes.

"Har-har. If you still haven't figured out what you want to be, try for a comedian."

I bowed. "You know the bit. Forward all payments to my Swiss bank account." It felt good to joke around. It had become one of my defense mechanisms in the years between Hillwood and now. If something ever started eating at me, I'd crack a few lame jokes and break up the tension. It usually worked. And, while it wasn't making me impervious to the anxiety, it eased it.

"Out. Out with you." She took me by the scruff of my collar and guided me to the garage door.

"Dis ain't ovah."

A smirk was her only reply, which I returned in kind. And just like that I was revving up the old Benz. Which we still didn't technically own. A few more payments. Which kind of felt like a waste, considering it was pretty old now. Whatever made pops happy.

I flipped on the radio and plugged in my phone. I spent a few minutes seated in the garage just digging through my playlists. Something moody would be nice. Radiohead should do.

15 Step was too catchy.

City of Delusion was too, I don't know. Fiesta-y? I'm not a music aficionado, so excuse my awful terminology.

I finally settled on Life in a Glass House. As soon as old Yorke's voice slithered through the lobes of my brain, everything was oddly serene.

Yeah, that'll do.

I glided out of the garage as easily as he snaked into my head, and the ride to Robbie's was as smooth as a good bourbon. I barely paid attention to any signs or stoplights. It was like being put on auto-pilot. Everything passed by in a milky haze. It was like a drink for my eyes and a drink for my brain. Going for drives always did something to me.

I wasn't even through the song before I arrived at Robbie's. For a brief moment, I worried I may have been speeding, but quickly shrugged it off.

"Just be more careful on the way back." I muttered to myself as I exited the car.

Robbie lived in a house that wasn't quite as luxurious as mine, but he was still well off. A cozy little number that felt a little more like home than my own place. Must have been all the vacancy. It seemed like everything in our house floated. Like nothing was strung together and was drifting in the oversized rooms with high ceilings.

It had me thinking about our old place in Hillwood. Where everything was cramped and there was barely room to stretch your legs when you got up in the morning. It was uncomfortable and sometimes infuriating. Nothing ever felt vacant, though.

I rang his doorbell. It was maybe a full minute before Robbie arrived at the door.

"Thaddeus," he greeted without even looking up from his phone.

"Robbie-boy. What's her name?" He was clearly engrossed in some little game. Undoubtedly with some vixen from school.

"Depends. Which one?" He looked up now. His chocolate eyes were ablaze with mischief. His smile, invariably, was one I couldn't help but return.

"Atta boy. I taught you well."

"Hey, now. You may be the looker of the pair these days, but I'm still the one with the charm." Couldn't lie, he had me there. Even when I did decide to turn mine on.

I was being led to his room, past all the familiar pictures and pieces of furniture. But thoughts of Hillwood really made me focus on everything. I liked his place a lot better than mine, I decided. It seemed so much livelier.

It wasn't as though my parents and I were distant. We got along famously. We laughed together. Spent most evenings together. And yet... It's like they didn't really know me. And I started to worry I didn't quite know myself. None of the things I'd done until now were disingenuous. I wasn't faking my humor. I wasn't faking loving my parents. Nor was I pretending to like Robbie. But something was gnawing at me. Like I'd forgotten a piece of myself I still needed when I decided to feast on Curly. For the life of me, I couldn't identify what it was.

Finally, we arrived at his room.

"Welcome to my humble abode." He walked in and spun around, arms flared. "Not as if you haven't been here a thousand times before."

"You really are a charmer. You don't have much trouble getting me back into your room night after night." I ribbed him a little.

"Super hilarious." He fell back onto his bed with a heavy plop, eyes fixed on his phone again. "What brings you here tonight? Forgive me if I'm a bit preoccupied. You know how it is. Molly and Grace. Who to choose?"

I whistled with amazement, though I wasn't that impressed. "They're pretty high on the totem pole. Either one is a catch." Truth be told, girls didn't interest me much. I couldn't deny I enjoyed their attention, but I wasn't a slave to my sex drive like most guys seemed to be. Oddly enough, I always had this eerie indifference toward them. For a while, it made me question my sexuality. Ultimately, there wasn't much of anything for either side. Sometimes, I was concerned I was asexual. But I usually managed to ignore it. At the very least, I could accurately identify attractive people. Molly and Grace were both in.

"I think I'm more into Grace," he said a little absentmindedly, his eyes glazed over. "But Grace seems more into you."

"Oh yeah?" There was a Rubik's cube on his shelf I always liked to fiddle with, which I was doing now. "How so?"

He sighed. "Well, she's open to a date. But it always seems to come back to whether or not you'll come along."

"What, with one of her friends?"

"Yeah. She picks ugly ones, too. Like I bet she doesn't want you to fall for them. Probably an excuse to get to you. You text her anymore?"

"Eh, not really." Which was true. Grace was hot, even well-spoken, but she was a bore. "She's kind of dumb."

"She's on the honor roll," he quipped quickly, like she was around to see him defend her.

"Dumb kids can make honor roll."

"Are you trying to dissuade me? Or do you want her for yourself? What gives, Thad?" It seemed like I had his undivided attention now. His phone was face-down on his bed.

"Eh, she's yours. I wouldn't be able to stick around to date her anyway."

"Huh?" His face fell immediately in concern. "What do you mean? Another trip to Italy or something?"

"You ever been to Hillwood?" I decided to be more direct now. I wasn't as nervous about the subject anymore, for one reason or another. For that matter, I felt totally indifferent.

"Never heard of it. But that's pretty vague. I'd venture to guess there's more than one Hillwood."

"Eh, doesn't really matter." One side of the Rubik's cube was completed. The remaining sides were a jumbled mess. I really related to it. On one surface, it was as calm as a lake on a windless day. Below the surface, though, there was a turmoil. Things mixing where they weren't supposed to. Reds thrashing on blues. Whites outshining blues. A real clusterfuck.

"Is it a ritzy town or something? How long you visiting it for?"

"I dunno. Probably until the start of senior year."

Robbie instantly rose from the bed. "Whoa, hold on. What? What the fuck is Hillwood? Are you joking around?" There was some urgency in his voice, which I expected. We'd become fast friends in the time I moved here. Truth be told, he was probably the best friend I'd ever had.

"No, totally serious." I placed his cube back on its shelf. "I used to live there. It's more of a city than a town. Kind of slummy. I was an inner-city kid." I shrugged.

"You never mentioned anything about that."

It made me laugh a little. "Well, yeah. Everyone here, except maybe the athletes, were born into wealth. My parents own a crappy little dry cleaning joint until my dad got into a better gig." Saying it all aloud now made everything up to this point seem like a facade. I never even had the slightest inkling of it before, yet it was all so obvious. I wasn't like Robbie and his silver-spoon friends. It didn't matter how wealthy I became or what I wore. The clothes, the weightlifting, the dates and sexual encounters. It was all like a dream. It was like waking up.

I felt like Curly.

"Why did you feel like you couldn't tell me?"

"Because you wouldn't have accepted me the way you did. Chances are, none of you would."

"Thad-"

"Did you know my name used to be "Curly"?"

He paused and stared at me for a long moment. He stared and stared like my face had become a different one altogether. Like I was an invader in his friend's clothing.

"What are you even talking about? What's that even mean? "Curly"? What is all this shit? Talk straight."

"I dunno. I don't remember what it meant anymore. It was a nickname." Why couldn't I remember its origin? It was like forgetting a birth name. Must be how dementia patients feel.

"What the- Thad. Gimme a real answer. Tell me what's going on here. Stop being cryptic and weird. What are you, moving? Where is Hillwood? What's up with you?"

"Hillwood," I exhaled wearily. "was my hometown. I already told you."

"Why are you going? When? For how long?"

"My dad wants to go back. Two weeks or so. Like I said: Until senior year." It came out pragmatic and precise. I'd lost interest in niceties.

"So, what? That's it? You just came here for that?" He seemed angry now. Really angry. What the fuck did he have to be angry about? It was like a gag in some B-list comedy. Robbie's angry at me.

"Yeah, I dunno."

"What the fuck are you- why are you acting like this? It's pissing me off." Truth be told, he was starting to eat at my nerves, too.

"Have you not been listening to anything I've said? Why do you make me repeat myself? Why do you keep asking the same questions?" He could be a real fucking moron. One thing I had no tolerance for was idiots. Nothing pissed me off more than having a conversation with myself.

"I didn't even ask anything-"

"Why do you keep asking the same questions? You mad? You fuming?" I knew how to push his buttons. Years of friendship resulted in more than a few fights. And, while I didn't want to fight, I did want to return the frustration he gave me. Did he think I was happy about any of this? Yet all he could do was say inane, trivial shit. Yeah, I didn't belong with these idiots. Not that I thought I belonged with Hillwood's batch of Stinkys and Harolds. It's like the world was filled with nothing but simian idiots.

He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "You done? You ready to talk without a cock in your mouth?"

"I thought you'd like it. Grace seems to do it often enough when she talks to you."

"Dude, what the fuck. Get out of my room."

"Dude," I did a nasally imitation of his voice. "Dude. Bro. Broseph. Dude. Dude." I was on my way out anyway. Not that I stopped mocking him the whole way to the door. Once we were nearly out of the main hallway, he shoved me a little. It didn't really budge me, but I got angry. I got so fucking pissed off. I thought I might actually hit him.

"Thaddeus? I didn't hear you come in. How are you? Are you leaving? Is something going on?" It was his mom. She was a decent looker. Early forties. I guess she could detect the anger in our expressions.

"Nah, nothing, mom." Robbie made the executive decision to butt in for me. I laughed and tried to play it off cool.

"I guess Robbie's doing the talking for me."

She laughed nervously and shot Robbie an annoyed glance. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay for some refreshments? I just made lemonade." A nice gesture. I always did like his mother. I didn't want to stick around much longer. In case I really did end up succumbing to the urge to slug her son.

"I'm good. Goodnight, ma'am. Rob." I turned away and strode toward the door. I didn't even look back. I didn't hear what she said behind me. I had the door opened and slammed in one lightning-quick motion. I think she started to chew Robbie out.

I flung the door of the Benz open and sat there another long minute. I sat there until the lights in Robbie's house went out. Until my phone had rung three times. Undoubtedly my parents seeing where I was. I sat there in silence for a long, long minute.

I laughed, and then I drove home.