I was happy.
The morning sun was peeking out its radiant glory from the far east, stretching out a golden soothing color across the horizon. I was sure I had woken up on the right side of the bed because I was undeniably happy. My cheeks were almost red in color when I checked the mirror and just thinking about it made my heart skip a beat.
Even though I was excited to meet him, I didn't want to meet him. Not that I didn't actually want to meet him, I mean, I didn't know how to react after what happened between us and I didn't want to ruin things by sounding too casual or too formal, and I was equally pretty sure that I was going to freak out if he smiled at me.
I checked myself in the mirror, making sure that my mother's makeup wasn't so evident on my face. It gave me the desired glow up I needed and that was perfect. I picked up my backpack and headed downstairs, joining my dad at the dining table.
" Good morning, Dad", I greeted as I settled for a plate of oatmeal and pancakes.
" Good morning son", he responded, still engrossed in his Daily newspaper. His food was still untouched, so typical of him to wait for mom to get downstairs first before eating, and mom on her own side would not be so considerate as to reduce the amount of time she spends painting her face - that was their business, not mine.
I started digging into my pancake, savoring the flavor together with the oatmeal.
" You seem so jolly this morning, any special occasion?" mom asked as she joined us at the dining table, placing her Prada bag on the seat next to her. Even though we were only three in my family, we had a dining table that could contain up to twelve people, and it made me wonder sometimes if mom and dad had wanted to have more children, seeing that they bought such a big sized family dining table. But nevertheless, her Prada bag sat comfortably on the chair instead of a possible younger sibling.
" Good morning mom", I tried to ignore her question, frankly not knowing what to say - I was just so bad at lying; a craft that I started mastering as I grew.
" Good morning, and I asked if there is any special occasion today, you seem so jolly and anxious which is so unlike you", she helped herself with a napkin and got hold of her cutlery neatly placed on both sides of her plate.
" What? No, no, there is no special occasion", I stammered - I never did that; not unless I was lying: oh, my poor lying skills.
" Someone's definitely hiding something", she teased, digging into her pancake after dripping honey all over it.
" Mom, there is nothing to hide, okay? I'm not hiding anything, and there is definitely no special occasion or anything okay? I'm not meeting anyone", I retorted.
" Who said anything about meeting anyone?" dad chipped in, bringing up his head from his newspaper.
" Bingo", mom snapped her fingers - that was it, I was caught. Thanks dad; and who would imagine that he was listening to our conversation and reading his morning papers at the same time! " And is that makeup on your face?" mom continued with her pestering, finding more evidence to convict me of falling in love.
" Mom, it's not", I said and it felt so much like a cat with a bloody mouth denying to have eaten the house mouse. I took another bite of the pancake and nodded slowly, pretending to savor the taste, " Hmmm, this pancake is really nice, you gotta try it", I said in-between mouthfuls.
" There you go, trying to change the subject when you've been caught", mom said. Dad placed a napkin on his thighs - his traditional eating etiquette, and started digging into his own pancakes. " It really is delicious. I would definitely consider it the best pancake Mandy has ever made", he said after just one bite. I wonder how one can articulate the taste of food with just one bite. I would need to finish a whole plate before giving out my recommendations.
" See? I told you the pancakes were nice", I tried to defend myself, but all the same, it seemed like medicine for the dead.
" If you have really fallen for someone, we have no problem with that", my dad said, his eyes still on his plate as he swiftly cut the pancake, rolled it, and transported it to his mouth with his fork, " and as for introducing us to this person, it's all left for you to decide".
" But I would really love to meet her. I want to see the girl that made my boy wear makeup", she giggled, " or wait, is it a he?" excitement was still on her face. I wasn't so surprised, my parents were far from being the conservative type, so me being gay was definitely not a problem for them.
" Enough with the questions honey, he will open up when he feels like doing so", dad said, being the gentleman he always has been, " but I must warn you boy, the fact that you like someone and want to have a relationship with that person should not make you derail from your studies", the knife in his right hand was pointing at me at this moment, " if any of your test scores decreases instead of increasing, I will personally ground you for a very long time", his voice was stern and sharp, sending electric signals to my brain in order to remind me that although he was not conservative, he was strict.
" Okay dad. Thank you", I said, my lips almost tearing apart for smiling too hard.
" You're welcome dear", mom said.
" Mom?"
" What is it?" she rolled her eyes, chewing what was in her mouth.
" You're not dad".
" Says who? I and your father are one", she said, mimicking the voice of the monkey priest in The Lion King movie. We burst out in laughter. The sound of laughter made the aroma of the pancake more pleasing.
After breakfast, I hurried out and my driver, Mr Shaker drove me to school. He was playing ' I Will Always Love You ' by Whitney Houston and my heart sang along with her, but the sad mood of the song was eradicated from my mind, making way for the happy mood - I was going to see him. The sun was still rising, it's golden rays reminding me so much of his skin tone. His lips were so perfect and undeniably sweet, and I longed to kiss them again.
The ride to school was always so short, but for some reason it seemed so long that morning.
" Thanks, Mr Shaker", I said to my driver as I dashed out of the vehicle and briskly walked into the school premises. My eyes wandered around, looking to see if I could find him around. Time was already going by and my class was to start in a few minutes - I just hoped he would find me pleasantly attractive. Mom's makeup had to work it's charm.
I headed for my locker, still hoping to catch his blue eyes, but instead of his blue eyes, I saw red.
'Hazel The Bed Wetter. Get A Grip You Toddler '.
It was clearly written in red spray paint all over my locker. My world turned upside down. Everyone started staring at me, whispering amongst themselves, giggling in excitement, pointing fingers at me. I was rotating on a floor disk and their mocking faces were making evil funny gestures at me - asshole, pervert, little baby-Hazel, cry-baby, do you wanna call your mummy, bed-wetter, dirty thing, filthy thing - they said to me, shattering my heart.
He had betrayed me. He promised not to tell anyone, and I wholeheartedly believed him, but he not only broke his promise, he killed me too.
" What? He's where?" I asked again, just to make sure that Basil wasn't pulling my legs.
" He is held hostage at the police station and you were just called to come in for him", he said, the reality dawning again on me.
" Why is he being held? What the hell did he do?" I asked, as if Basil was the officer who had apprehended him.
" I guess you'll have to find out at the station", he said.