Page 113 of All That History
He opted for ‘at home,’ which was probably better for his cholesterol.Still definitely tipsy by the time I eased the truck to a stop, though not fall-down drunk.Even so, I decided it was probably best to walk him to the door.
“What time do you want to head out in the morning?”
Flynn made an unhappy noise.“Ask my hangover tomorrow.”
“You can sleep it off while I finish packing, then.”I tousled his hair.“Such a lightweight.”
He stuck his tongue out at me, as he noisily fumbled the key into the lock.
I was about to head home when the porch light clicked on.Flynn just managing to open the door, in time to reveal his mom with an unimpressed look on her face.
“Flynn?”
He waved, hand still holding the key.“Hey, mom.”
She glanced between us.“Are you drunk?”
It was tempting to leave, to backstep out of the dim pool of light and her far brighter disapproval.Only then she might think that we’d both been drinking, and that was hardly going to help her opinion of me.
“I was designated driver,” I said, holding up my keys.
The explanation did nothing to soften her expression.“So, that meant it was a good idea to get my son drunk?”
“I’m not drunk!”It was a rousing protest, certainly, though probably not entirely convincing.“And Oli was helping me, actually.”
“After getting you drunk in the first place.”Not quite a sneer, though I’d seen that supercilious look before.Usually after recounting Flynn’s latest achievements to my parents, with the sort of crowing-but-apologetic tone that said “I’m sorry your son is a fuck-up, it gives me no pleasure to remind you of that fact.”
I’d always been skeptical of the latter half.
“I think it’s probably a good thing you’re going back in the morning,” she continued, speaking as though I wasn’t even there to hear it.“Hanging around with these town folk will only get you into trouble.”
Flynn stood up a little taller.“Oli’s friends were great, actually.There’s no need to be such a snob, mom.”
You’d think, from her hiss of displeasure, that he’d just slapped her.
“I’m not a snob!Flynn, how could you.I just think you’re...on a different path from them, that’s all.I’m sure even Oliver here would agree with that.”
It was funny, being tagged in to convince someone that yes, they were better than me, and no, us hanging out was probably a terrible idea.I made the best attempt I could, to marshal my expression.“Flynn is certainly a great success, yes.”
She nodded, as though I’d suitably debased myself and anyone else within the township limits.“You see?Oliver agrees.”
Flynn snorted.“Oli is a nice guy, who’ll say whatever’s required to maintain the peace.Even if it means putting himself down in the process.”He cast a meaningful look my way.“Which is one of the reasons I love him so much.”
His mom winced.“You’ve hardly been friends since you were both little kids.Things are very different, now.”
He stared at me, pointedly.
I shook my head, just slightly.Wanting him to go inside, to tell her whatever it was she needed to hear - yes, even if “maintaining the peace” was a sort of cowardice - in order to settle the topic.
Flynn sighed, tiredly, and I felt some of the tension in my chest loosen.Knowing he’d made the right decision; that sleep would fix the immediate problem, and the rest we could figure out in time.
“You’re right, mom,” he said, still watching me.“Things are different, now.What with Oli and I dating, and all.”
It’d already been quiet, but now that silence was deafening.
I wanted to be able to grab his words, and push them back into his mouth.Scoop them up, like they were slippery, dangerous bubbles; crank back the clock, even just a few seconds, and set us on a different path.Like the wince just after you curb a wheel in the parking lot, and the desperate plea to unhearing gods for the tiniest do-over, a nudge onto an easier timeline.
There was no chance of that, of course.Only Flynn’s mom looking between us with an expression somewhere between confusion, dismay, and shock.
