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    Katya Dee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Whale - 15. Part II, chapter 7

- VII -

 

The next day I felt like crap. I couldn't even get out of bed and I thought, screw this. I am not going anywhere today. I'll probably end up getting into a fight, and then I'll just get suspended again. I shuffled downstairs, and my mother looked at me with actual worry in her eyes.

"What?" she asked carefully when I started making coffee.

"Nothing," I grumbled and sat down.

"Oh, Jesus," she sighed. "You broke up with her, didn't you? Or did she dump your sorry ass?"

I felt like throwing something at her.

"No," I grumbled again. "She had to leave for two weeks..."

My mother sighed deeply and sat next to me. Even yesterday morning it would send me into a coma, but today I just buried my face in my hands.

"Luke," she sighed. "She'll be back."

I muttered something, and when she lightly stroked my hair, I looked up, startled.

"This is so bizarre," she muttered, looking at me. "I can't believe this... I mean it's you we are talking about!"

"Ha-ha," I muttered and got up to get coffee.

I got a mug, and my mother laughed softly.

"Good Lord," she muttered. "You weren't lying..."

"Oh, shut up, will you?" I winced and poured some coffee into my mug. "Just... Drop it, okay? I feel like crap."

She sighed again.

"You are not going anywhere today, are you?" she asked.

"Hell, no," I muttered and drank my coffee. "I'll probably end up killing someone."

"I am making pancakes," she said and got up. "Go do something useful, will you? Get your ass in the kitchen in half an hour or so."

"Fine," I growled and went upstairs, grabbing my coffee mug.

I stopped by my brother's door and realized that if I wanted to squeeze cash out of him, I should do it now. My mood was beyond bad, and that would actually help. I didn't even bother knocking. I mean, I saw him with his tongue in his boyfriend's mouth, what could be worse than that, right? So I opened his door and walked in. Ugh, I should've knocked after all. The idiot was sleeping in the nude and he kicked the sheets off the bed.

"For the love of God!" I growled. "Put something on!"

He sat up on the bed and stared at me.

"What the hell! Get out of my room!"

"Cover yourself, will you?" I snorted. "You are related to me, freak... This is not sexy, okay?"

He threw a shoe at me and pulled the blanket over himself.

"What the hell do you want?" he demanded, and I drank my coffee.

"I need money," I said calmly, and his face started turning red.

"Are you kidding me?!" he hissed.

"No," I said seriously. "But I swear it's for the last time. I am going to get a job. But I need money, Greg."

I thought that he was going to strangle me, but then he just closed his eyes and asked evenly:

"How much?"

"Well," I shrugged. "Considering that this is the last time... Give me five hundred bucks and I'll give you the pictures."

He opened his eyes and stared at me in disbelief.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked finally. "Five hundred bucks?!"

I shrugged.

"I can make it a grand, you know..."

"Jesus!" he exclaimed. "This is unbelievable! It's not happening!"

"Uh huh," I nodded. "That's what dad will say if you don't cough up the cash..."

He stared at me with hatred, and I finally grinned at him.

"Come on, Greg," I said. "We both know that you'll give it to me. And then I'll give you the pictures, and it'll be the end of story. Frankly, I don't care about the whole thing, I really don't. It's your business and your life. But I need the money, so I am not going to feel bad or anything."

"God..." he hissed and got off the bed, blanket wrapped around his waist. "I hate you!"

"I know," I nodded and finished my coffee.

"Go get the pictures," he growled and I grinned again.

"Be right back."

I went into my room and found the book where I had the pictures. I took those and also my cell phone, because I knew he'd want to make sure that I deleted all the files. I went back and he all but threw the money at me. I handed him the pictures and he immediately hissed:

"Phone!"

"I know," I nodded. "I am going to count my money first."

"Prick!"

I shrugged and counted the money. Yup, five hundred bucks. It should last me for at least a week when Faith comes back, I thought, and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I quickly found the pictures and deleted them with Greg watching me like a hawk the entire time.

"If you have them in your computer..." he said dangerously and I snorted.

"I don't, okay? This was the last time, bro."

I wasn't lying. I never bothered putting those pictures into my computer. I knew it wouldn't be the smartest move to make, because my father snooped through my files at least twice a week. He thought he was careful and that I had no clue he was doing it. The man was a moron.

"Get out!" Greg hissed, and I didn't even feel like saying anything nasty to him, so I just left.

I went downstairs in thirty minutes or so, and my mother silently set a plate with some pancakes on the table. I grabbed one right away. My mother always made heavenly pancakes. She was insane, she was driving me crazy, but the woman could cook.

"What's her name?" she asked me suddenly, and I almost choked.

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

"I am curious," she pressed her lips tightly. "I want to know the name of the girl who was able to get to you so bad."

"Faith," I mumbled.

"Ah, yes," she nodded energetically. "Excellent name. Fits this whole story perfectly. Faith is something that I almost lost when it came to you."

"Very funny," I rolled my eyes. "Hilarious, really."

"Why did she have to leave?" she sat across from me, and I sighed.

"Her Uncle is sick... Something with his heart. And she is really close to her Uncle."

"I see," my mother nodded and took a pancake from the plate. "Where did she go?"

"Minnesota," I said absent-mindedly, wondering why the hell Faith hasn't called me this morning yet.

Last night she called at almost eleven in the evening, and said that the plane arrived just fine and that she was on her way to see her Uncle. We talked for almost an hour, and finally, she said that she really needed to go see her Uncle because for the last forty-five minutes she's been sitting on the front porch.

"How old is she?" my mother asked, and it didn't even register in my mind as a dangerous question.

"Twenty-two," I said and immediately bit my tongue.

"Really," my mother said slowly. "So she is in college then?"

"Umm," I said, thinking that I was an idiot who should be executed. "Umm..."

"What?" her eyes narrowed immediately. "What is it, Luke...? I'll find out anyway," she promised dangerously. "She is not a call-girl, is she?"

Now I did choke on the damn pancake. I coughed.

"Jesus..." I managed finally. "No, she is not a call-girl... She is..."

I looked at her and realized that I would have to tell her sooner or later, and I'd much rather tell her than my father.

"Shit," I muttered. "Okay, don't freak out, okay?"

She stared at me silently and I took a deep breath.

"Okay... She is my math teacher."

"A math tutor?" she frowned, and I almost laughed out loud.

Selective hearing at its best, ladies and gents!

"No, mom," I sighed. "Not a tutor. A teacher. She is a math teacher at my school... She came in September."

"Luke," she was blinking extremely rapidly now. "If this is another one of your idiotic jokes..." she looked into my eyes and groaned. "Oh, Jesus... You are serious!"

"Uh huh," I said carefully. "That's why I said don't freak out..."

"Oh my God..." she slowly put her pancake back on the plate. "Do you realize that it's illegal? Does she realize that it's illegal?"

"Yeah, well..." Surprisingly, I was still hungry. "I am eighteen, so it's not..."

"Luke, it's unethical! And I am pretty sure that even though you are eighteen, if someone finds out..." she shook her head. "Please tell me nobody knows!"

"Please," I rolled my eyes. "I am an idiot, but I am not that much of an idiot, okay? Of course, nobody knows!"

"How did it happen?" she asked weakly, and I gave her a look.

"How do you think it happened?"

"Don't be a smartass right now," she warned. "What I mean is how in hell could you two fall for each other? If she is a teacher, she should've hated your guts by now!"

"Yeah, well," I shrugged. "She was new, remember?"

"Jesus..." my mother said weakly. "Oh, Jesus..."

It was weird, but I felt better right now that I told her.

"Don't breathe a word to dad," I said quickly, and now it was her turn to give me a look.

"You kidding me?" she snorted. "I never even told him that your brother is gay."

I stared at her. She knew?! It's a good thing that Greg doesn't suspect that, I thought. He would never give me any money if he knew.

"Your father lives in denial," she sighed. "And that's fine with me."

I took another pancake. My mother shook her head.

"Luke," she sighed again. "If someone finds out about you two, she will get fired, you realize that, right?"

"Yeah," I said darkly. "That's why nobody will find out. We've been okay so far."

"How long have you two..."

"Since the first day of school, pretty much," I grinned, and my mother got up.

"I don't wanna know," she announced. "I really, really don't...! When she comes back, you have to bring her over here," she added and I laughed.

"Deal," and I grabbed the plate from the table. "I'm gonna go eat these in my room, okay?"

"I don't care," she shook her head and started to wipe the stove.

 

©Katya Dee. All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Luke's mom is actually not half bad. It was a bad idea for him to spill so much information. It isn't really his secret to share.

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Great chapter.  I like the mom character.  She just has to know, even if she doesn't want to know.  I really hope you're planning to write a scene where she meets Faith.

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