Mixed Up(70)

It was a close enough summary. So what if the first part was a big, fat lie?

"Did you get rid of your spider?" Mom took the seat next to me.

"My spider?" I blinked at her.

She slowly raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, Henry. He's trapped under a glass." I sipped my coffee. "I figure he'll either run out of oxygen or I can make someone get rid of it for me." 

"Why didn't you ask Parker when he showed up?"

"Because he'd probably throw it at my head for his own amusement." If the spider were real, that would be a possibility.

"Was he wearing the same clothes when he came in this morning?"

"Mom." I held my hands out and gaped at her. "I don't know. I didn't even look at him. I was working-like I should be right now."

"I still think it's strange that you were the last and first person to see him. Don't you?"

"Given that nobody saw him between him finishing and starting work, I don't find it weird at all, actually." I opened my laptop. "Someone else obviously saw him during those hours. We just don't know who."

"I'd love to know who. Wouldn't you?"

"What the hell is up with all these questions?" I finally looked her in the eye. "I'm already here against my will and better judgment given the noise from the living room. Must you continue to torture me further?"

Mom grimaced. "Sorry, Ray. I just find the entire situation strange. Ilsa said something about a conversation they had and, I don't know. I think I jumped to conclusions."

I slammed the pen down and glared at her. "Mother. Are you suggesting that he and I spent the night together?"

"Who spend night together?" Yia-Yia shuffled into the kitchen, today's dress a vibrant yellow that actually compliment her dark, olive skin. "Raven. You answer."

"Parker," Mom jumped in before I could. "But I was wrong. Apparently."

"Apparently? There's no apparently about it." Yes, there was. "If he and I ever spent the night together, it'd be because I'd be figuring out what to do with his dead body. Just because we're actually nice to one another now doesn't mean we're sleeping together."

Yia-Yia sniffed the orange juice carton before nodding. "He want you."

Both me and Mom turned to her. "What?" I asked her.

"That boy, he want you." She poured the juice into a glass without looking at us. "I see in his eyes."

"Who want who?" Great Aunt Maria stepped into the kitchen, her accent almost thicker than Yia-Yia's. "We have mimosa?"

"We don't have mimosas, Aunt Maria." How Mom was keeping a blank expression, I didn't know.

"What's the use of having Raven if we don't have mimosas?" Great Aunt Maria switched to Greek.

I knew this would be a shitshow. More surprising was my mom's stream of questions. I didn't know what Parker's conversation with his mom had been about, but I knew it couldn't be good.

I left my family to the discussion about mimosas-I could barely understand their Greek now anyway-and picked up my phone to text Parker.





Me: Important. Are you there?

Parker: What happened? Did someone burn down the house?

Me: Mom asked me a lot of uncomfortable questions. Did you talk to your mom about me?





Nothing.





Me: PARKER.

Parker: She might have weaseled out of me that I have some confusing feelings for you.

Parker: Wait.

Parker: She promised me she wouldn't tell your mom.

Me: YOU'RE AN IDIOT

Me: THEY TELL EACH OTHER EVERYTHING THEY'RE LIKE CHILDREN

Me: THIS IS A DISASTER

Me: YOU FOOLISH DICKNUGGET

Parker: Is your caps stuck or are you shouting at me?

Me: Calling you a cocknugget didn't clue you in?



       
         
       
        

Me: I'm going to Google lucid dreaming so I can make Satan's hellhound eat you in my dreams tonight.

Parker: I don't know what to say to that, so I'm going to say OK, I might deserve it.

Me: Ugh.





He was going to kill me. I knew I should have killed him years ago.





Me: And there is nothing remotely confusing about the way you feel when you want to insert your penis into my vagina!

Parker: That's the least sexy thing I've ever heard.

Me: GOOD. Now you won't be so confused.

Parker: Actually, I'm more confused, because, as you put it, I still enjoy the idea of inserting my penis into your vagina.

Me: I can't believe we're semi-sexting and my family are arguing about the lack of mimosas. In Greek.

Parker: Did you start that seating plan yet? Why do you even need one? I talked your grandma into a buffet. Buffets don't need seating plans.