Categories > Original > Romance > The First Look

2022

by MayaTripathi 0 reviews

At 17 years old, Sean Davis has been taunted for weeks by his parents as they protected him from a secret that his grandfather has been attempting to share with him. Today, he breaks.

Category: Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2016-09-03 - Updated: 2016-09-03 - 781 words - Complete

0Unrated
2022


My eyes skim the hallway from the crevice my bedroom door creates. It's empty, leaving me an opportunity to listen in without getting noticed. I've heard them arguing for days about this. My grandpa's been over throughout the week to try and get me alone, but for some reason, my parents won't allow it. I focus my ears on the shouting from somewhere downstairs, unable to pick up exactly where it's coming from. If they're in the living room, they'll be there for a while and I may finally get an idea of what it is that they're hiding from me. If they're in the hallway, this will be over too soon.

“I won't let you!” my dad shouts, reaching the limit of his patience.

I close my eyes for a second, knowing that my questions about their mystery have already driven him up the wall. Whispering follows, but I can't discern it. I feel a nervous tension in my stomach and the light from the crevice becomes obscured by a shadow. With a sharp breath, I straighten out and take a few steps back. The door is pushed open towards me and my mom steps into the doorway, everything about her appearance angry. I can't decide whether I should start talking to reason with her or keep my mouth shut. With an exhale, she narrows her eyebrows.

“Don't eavesdrop,” she warns me. I'm surprised by how calm her tone is. It doesn't match her mood remotely. I open my mouth to explain my actions, but she shakes her head once in defeat. “You shouldn't be part of any of this. What did you hear?”

I swallow.

“Dad shouting,” I explain in a cracking voice, too dehydrated to stay composed.

“Is that all?” she tries, almost as if she's searching for information. I can't help but frown at her. She knows that I don't lie to her.

“Yeah. That's all of it. It's not like you and Dad tell me anything. It's ridiculous.”

“Sean, you have to understand that this is a very different... it's not something you have to be involved in. Stay out of it. Please.”

I roll my head back to look at the ceiling, thinking of how I can convince her to give me something; anything. When I look back down, she's more nervous than before. “You have to trust me. You have been waving it in my face for days. I'm not just going to ignore that.”

“You need to. I can't let him pull you into that.”

“Into what?” I practically cut her off. She needs to understand that I'm not playing around.

“Into nothing,” she stresses. “What did I just ask you?”

“To walk around blindly like Grandpa isn't trying to tell me something important,” I mumble.

She leans her head down in exaggeration like it'll give her a better look at my face. “Don't act like I'm doing this to punish you. I'm asking you to trust me and your dad. We know how dangerous this news is. OK? Do you really think that I'll let you get involved with someone that I can't trust?”

“Since when don't you trust Grandpa?”

“Since -” she pauses, clearly not having meant to say this. “It's not your grandpa. It's what he does; did. Please stop asking questions.”

“Just -”

“Hey!” another shout comes from outside of my bedroom, much closer than before.

Tired of this conversation, I march past my mom and through the doorframe, looking left to see my grandpa standing just below the top of the stairs, my dad holding onto his upper arm and muttering something that sounds like a plea.

“Grandpa,” I say stiffly, walking towards them in irritation. They both look up at me and my dad becomes closed off. “Tell me what you've been trying to.”

“We need to talk in pr-”

“Don't you dare,” my dad interrupts. “He's my son; not yours. Don't say another word to him.”

“What's the secret?” I try again, keeping my eyes off my dad altogether.

“Sean! Go back to your room.”

“Fuck, no,” I tell him, avoiding what I'm sure is a shocked expression. I can't remember the last time that I swore at him. “Tell me.”

“Not now,” my grandpa retracts, taking a step back. A moment later, my dad releases his arm. “Later. Alone.”

He quickly proceeds down the stairs, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack and disappearing through the door. He slams it shut a lot louder than I expect and I close my eyes reflexively. Immediately, I can feel my parents on either side of me and I slowly open my eyes, ready for the explosion.
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