Chapter 7 – Hold your tonge
Phils POV
The rest of the week went by incredibly normal. After that lunch, Dan started acting more normal—or at least as normal as he can act. The more I talked to him, the more he responded and we actually started building a friendship. I learned that he moved here from a really small town somewhere in the states, but he was born and grew up in southern England which is why his accent sounds different from mine. We talked about music and video games finding out we actually had a lot in common, and the more I spent time with him, the more I considered him a friend. It's just nice to finally have someone to talk to that's not mum.
We walked home together a lot—rather Dan walked me home, hung out with me on my porch and left just a few minutes before mum came home. He never did his homework, but he was incredibly good at history so he'd always help me with mine. He remembered dates and wars and queens as if he was there himself.
"You're so smart. Why don't you try harder in school?" I asked one afternoon.
"School isn't really my thing," he replied shrugging.
"What are you going to do once we graduate though? Don't you want to go to uni?" I pressed, pushing my history book off my lap.
"Not really. I don't really want to do anything, honestly," Dan mumbled, flipping through the pages of my book.
"So, what? You're just going to live?"
"That's the plan, Angel."
"What about a home? Or food? Or anything? How will you pay for stuff if you don't have a job?"
"You're always worrying," Dan giggled, leaning in to me. "You should be more like me."
"Blow off my classes and scare everyone away?" I half joked.
"Live a little," Dan said, staring directly at me. "You're so fortunate and you don't even realize it."
"What do you mean?"
"You're unique. Special. You're an individual and you've got a million and one things you can do, but you choose to close yourself off and seclude yourself. You're capable of greatness and you barely fall in the area of decent."
"Says the guy who probably won't graduate with his class," I snapped back. "How dare you say I'm barely decent?!"
"Angel, come on. I didn't mean that—"
"Stop. Calling. Me. Angel."
"I—"
"No, shut up just this once. I work too hard to be 'barely decent'. I haven't had an off day since I learned how to walk! I haven't stopped studying since I learned to read! I do everything I can and then some to be great—to be amazing! And you, my only friend, say I'm barely decent?"
"I think I should go—"
"I think you should too," I agreed.
"Phil?"
"What?"
"I didn't mean it how you took it. If you want, I can give you time and explain later."
Before I answered him, I stormed inside my house and slammed the door shut. I collapsed on my couch and screamed as loud as I could into the cushions and didn't realize I started crying until my throat closed up and all I could manage were strangled hiccups.
I thought we were friends, Dan and I. I thought we were getting somewhere and maybe I could start trusting him and hanging out with him on weekends and—
This is why I don't have friends. There's too much emotional investment and emotions like anger and sadness take up too much time. I need to study. I need to do my homework and my research project for history class and I really should finish reading my novel for Literature so I can start on my paper, but I can't imagine doing any of that right now.
Maybe I can just wait for mum to get home and explain everything to her and just cry into her shoulder like I would when I would fall down and scrape my knee. We can sit on the couch and she would tell me that Dan is so wrong about me and that I shouldn't listen to his opinions and just believe what I know—believe the facts. I am intelligent. I am destined for greatness whether Dan sees that or not…but maybe that's not what he was talking about. He did say he didn't mean it like that, but isn't that just the douchebag response to cover up the fact that he insulted me?
Knowing Dan, though, if he wanted to tease or insult me, he wouldn't go after something so trivial. He sees people a way no one else does and seems to know what really ticks people off. He'd play on my pet peeves and dance around my last nerve without doing anything necessarily wrong. He would bother me and just be a nuisance until I cracked, then laugh at me for being angry at a hair ruffle or something stupid. It's not like Dan to just go in and hurt with words—he just isn't that kind of person.
He must have meant something else. But what could he have meant to say that I don't understand? How can I be barely decent when everything I do in my life (besides sports of course) I excel in?
I wiped my shirt sleeve across my wet cheeks and took a deep breath. I can't think about this now. Later, but not now. I decided to make a snack to get something in my stomach, then hopped up the stairs to grab a blanket and pillow like I did when I was little and set up a comfortable nest on the couch. I curled into a ball and closed my eyes trying to push Dan out of my thoughts.
"Hey kiddo," a soft voice greeted shaking me gently. "Dinner's ready."
I cracked my eyes open to see mum squatting in front of me, a soft worried smile on her face.
"Are you feeling poorly, love?" she asked, pressing her hand to my forehead.
"I'm fine," I replied stretching out. "I was just really tired and overstressed."
She leaned forward and kissed my forehead, pushing my hair back making me feel safe and loved in a way only mothers can seem to manage.
"After dinner, how about we just take it easy tonight? I'll go out and get sundae stuff and you can pick out a film and we can stuff our faces on the couch."
"I have a few things I need to get done for school," I admitted. "I got some of my history done with Dan earlier, but I still have—"
"Dan? You're friends with him now?" mum asked, a proud smile lighting up her entire face.
Who am I to take that smile away? After all, friends fight, right? That's all this was. A misunderstanding.
"Yeah, he's actually not that bad."
"Well you should invite him over sometime so I can meet him," she replied. "But you'll have to let me know ahead of time so I don't come home looking like I just had a boxing match with Satan," she joked, pushing a strand of hair that fell out of her bun behind her ear.
"You're always beautiful, mum," I rolled my eyes laughing. "I'll let you know though."
"And you still don't have a girlfriend," mum laughed as I playfully glared at her. "Boyfriend, sorry. Get washed up for dinner and if you want, we can talk later."
"Thanks mum."
