Seeing Shane Gray ✓

twenty one | love

*.*.*.*.*.*

October 24

I'm sitting in bed with my laptop resting on my knees when my door opens.

Looking up, I see my mom and dad enter awkwardly and look around. I don't react, waiting for them to explain why they're here. I'm sure they didn't suddenly realize they need to talk to me. There has to be more to it.

"We need to talk," Dad begins.

To prove that I agree, I close my laptop and put it beside me on the bed, sitting up and folding my legs under myself.

"Let's do it," I say.

Mom and Dad glance at each other and slowly come into my room. Mom stands next to a wall and buries her hands in the pockets of her trousers as Dad pulls out my reading desk chair and sits down, facing me.

"Your mother told me you had a boy over today," Dad says.

Not knowing why I'm even surprised, I turn my gaze to look at mom who avoids my eye.

"Wow," I breathe, resisting an urge to laugh. "I can't believe this." I shake my head, smiling to myself.

"Taylor, we're your parents," Dad says. "We're just looking out --"

"Is this all parents are supposed to be doing?" I ask, lifting my gaze to stare straight into Dad's brown eyes. "When was the last time you asked me how I am? How school's been? If I need anything? You guys don't even care how I go to school and come back or how I'm coping with my college applications because --"

"Taylor, I'm only asking --"

"You're asking me who that boy was, yes, I know," I snap, my temper rising. I curl my hands into fists in my lap and struggle to keep my tone even. "His name is Shane Gray. He's our school's backup quarterback, a star student, rich, popular, and probably going to Stanford because of his amazing application. Is there anything else you'd like to know, Mr. Ming?"

Dad winces, his face swelling red and nostrils flaring. My dad has never been the kind of man to burst out in flames of rage. He would rather sit and wait for things to sort out on their own than have a heated discussion about whatever upsets him.

Carter hated it.

He always ranted about how numb Dad is. I didn't mind, not seeing why Carter wanted Dad to shout and yell when he was usually so calm.

'I just want a freaking reaction from him,' he'd say.

He didn't even get a reaction from Dad when he died.

"I don't know how to handle you anymore, Taylor," Dad says, looking away as he stands up. "You're becoming impossible."

"You know what's impossible? Dealing with the two of you," I snap. "You're supposed to be the adults here, aren't you? Then how come I'm the one wondering how to stop my mom from becoming a freaking alcoholic and my dad from turning into a block of stone? Because that's what I feel like I have for parents."

My parents stare at me, wide-eyed and disbelieving. Hurt flashes on their faces but I'm not ashamed of speaking my mind anymore. I'm sick and tired of making excuses for them, telling myself they're still recovering from the loss of their son and that they'll be fine eventually. They're not fine anymore and neither am I, and I'm not going to pretend that's okay anymore.

"I've applied at Washington U," I tell my parents, lowering my gaze to my hands. "If I get in, I'll go to Washington and probably stay there. Not that you guys care but ..."

I look up to see Mom squeezing her eyes shut before heading for the door. She jerks it open and walks out while I watch her leave. Dad stares at the ground, his brow furrowed darkly.