Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Illias
“A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”
Illias forgot how well-off his mom and Henry were until they invited him to some high-end restaurant on the outskirts of the city.
He tugged at the tie he recently purchased, feeling incredibly out of place standing in front of the Opal Marée.
His mom and Henry were supposed to meet him there, but as the minutes ticked by, the more anxious he grew. Did something happen?
“Hey, you.”
His head whipped to the right to see Charity Monroe; ex-childhood best friend and his first (and subsequently last) girlfriend.
Oh fuck. Leave it to his mom and Henry to come up with one of their little schemes to set Illias up.
The last time they did this was the whole reason he and Charity stopped talking even though they had been friends since preschool.
He bottled up the scream he held in his lungs and blew it out his nose. There was no sense in riling himself up when he didn’t even know if this was one of their little ploys. No matter what’s going on, he forced himself to smile, I will play the good son.
“Oh good, you both made it!”
He looked towards the parking lot to see his mom and Henry walking up to them. Illias gave his mom a hug then greeted Henry with a stiff nod. Henry barely acknowledged the gesture before heading inside the restaurant. Charity followed behind Henry, leaving Illias and his mom by themselves.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I had Henry reserve a separate table for you and Charity.” She took his arm, pulling him inside. “I thought it would be nice for the two of you to catch up.”
“Does she know?” He avoided looking at Charity, afraid she would feel his eyes on her and get the wrong idea.
“No, but it will be fine. Just like old times,” his mom insisted.
Illias’ stomach knotted and he pressed his lips together.
He thought about what he would say to Charity once they were seated at their table.
If there was anything to say. The more he thought, the tighter the knot grew.
His mom patted him on the arm then released it to sit with Henry.
The hostess directed Illias to his table where Charity was.
He pulled out the seat across from her and sat.
They looked at anything but each other, silence thick between them.
There was nothing to say, yet so much. He forced himself to look at Charity.
Someone he used to call his closest friend.
Knew like the back of his hand. Things were different now though.
Years of separation had changed both of them.
The Charity sitting across from him wasn’t the same scrawny, insecure little girl he grew up with.
She didn’t wear pigtail braids anymore. Her black hair was cut into a short pixie, revealing a multitude of piercings.
Confidence radiated off her like rays of sunlight.
“You look…different.” He paled when her eyebrow rose. “In a good way.”
“I can say the same thing about you. When did you get the nose ring?” she asked as if they were casual friends. Friends that hadn’t spent eight years not talking.
“A few years ago. A friend did it for me, actually.”
“I’m surprised your mom doesn’t make you take it out.”
He shrugged, looking down at his hands and twisted his ring. “I guess she thought it wasn’t worth the argument.”
“What’re you messing with?”
He paused, realizing the ring he was twisting was the mood ring that Charity bought during their field trip to the aquarium in middle school.
It was the only thing she could afford two of.
To always remember our first aquarium trip, she said while handing him a ring.
Back then, the band was silver. Over the years, it had tarnished, making it a dull brown, but he could never make himself toss it. He held up his left hand.
Her lips curled into a small smile. “I can’t believe you still wear that.”
“I had it resized a few times.”
“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?”
“I know. That’s why we’re—why we were such good friends.”
“Yeah…we were.” She averted her eyes while playing with the necklace she wore. “Do you remember why we stopped being friends?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me after our fallout.”
“Well yeah, you were a major jerk,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “But if you had apologized, I would have accepted it. I mean, you were my best friend, Eli.” The old nickname slipped off her tongue like she never stopped calling him that.
“I’m sorry, really, I am. There was a lot going on back then that I should have been more open about and it caused me to be an asshole—not that that’s an excuse. But”—he reached across the table— “there isn’t a day where I didn’t beat myself up over losing you.”
She looked at him with gentle, cautious eyes and a faint smile that barely crinkled the corners of her green eyes. “You didn’t lose me.” She took his hand. “Just misplaced me.”
After dinner, Illias went back to his mom and Henry’s.
He would have made an excuse not to, but he made the mistake of telling his mom that he switched shifts to have today off, instead of his usual off day, when he agreed to dinner.
Unable to use work as a scapegoat, Illias sat in the living room, cursing the one time he was honest. He looked around the room, taking in everything that’d changed since he left.
The walls were painted a soft gray instead of the burnt orange he grew up with, abstract art replaced family photos along the wall, a new coffee table sat on a plush rug in the center of the floor.
He knew he couldn’t expect them to keep everything the same, but it didn’t change how odd it felt.
Henry sighed loudly, flipping the page in his newspaper. “Seems like you and Charity picked up right where you left off.”
Illias approached the sentence with the same hesitancy he’d approach a bear with a stick. “Yeah, it was, uh, it was good to see her again. I missed talking to her.”
“She missed you too,” his mom jumped in. “She’s not seeing anyone right now.”
“Good for her.” Illias prayed they could feel the bud of discomfort sprouting.
“I can make you two another reservation at the Opal,” Henry stated, boredom interlaced with his words as if he rather talk about anything else.
“I appreciate the offer, but we haven’t talked to each other in years. So I'd prefer if y’all didn’t try to set us up,” Illias said, setting his first ever boundary with them.
“We’re only trying to help. Taking her out again is the right thing to do, son.” Henry sat the newspaper to the side. “She’s a great girl. You’d be a fool to mess this up again.”
Illias reined back the gut instinct to snap that he wasn’t his son.
“What he means”—his mom cut her eyes at Henry—“is that we know that you two were really good friends at some point and you used to—”
“Date. Yeah, I know, but we haven’t talked in eight years. What makes you think we’d possibly want to jump straight into dating?”
“Oh, honey, we didn’t mean… We just want—”
“Look, I appreciated dinner, but I would like to build back my friendship with Charity on my own terms.”
His mom deflated a little but kept a docile smile. “I understand honey. But there’s no harm in putting the idea out there, right?”
“Can we please just drop it? I’m not interested in dating her, okay?” he bit out. Guilt bloomed in his chest the second his mom’s expression dropped and her eyes grew glossy.
“Are you interested in women at all?” Henry asked, voice sharp and accusing.
“Henry!” Illias’ mom scolded, voice small.
“It’s an honest question. He’s only ever brought one girl home, Lauren. That doesn’t seem odd to you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she dismissed. “That doesn’t mean anything. Right, hon?” Her tone was light, almost playful, despite the waver in it.
Illias’ chest hurt. “Mom, I—” He looked down at his hands, unable to say what sat at the tip of his tongue.
“See, I always knew something wasn’t right with him,” Henry said as if Illias inadvertently confirmed every negative thought Henry held.
“Excuse me?” Illias turned towards Henry.
He stood, straightening his spine like he did when Illias was a child and wanted to strike the fear of God in him. “I can’t say I’m surprised you turned out this way. I always told Lauren she babied you too much.”
“What do you mean by this way?” Illias stood. His ears and the back of his neck burned.
“A fag.”
Illias didn’t think. Red coated his vision. The sound of skin making contact with skin echoed in his ears. His knuckles throbbed. Red blossomed across Henry’s cheek and jaw.
“Get out of my house,” Henry spat, holding his jaw.
Illias bolted, heart pulsing in his temples. His mom called after him but nothing she said to him right then mattered. All that mattered was getting out of that fucking house.