.Slime.Heads.

Rolling her eyes at my presence, she stood up and fake smiled towards my mother and I.
"Hey you guys!"

Fighting against myself to NOT roll my eyes, I smiled back as my mother answered for us, "Hi, June."

Her face looked strained. I always tried not to speak bad about her face emotions since she looked like my mother. Fucking twins.

"Where's Lucas?" My mother asked hugging her.

Lucas was my father. He was an Italian tall and lean man with skin so damn good that there was no signs of stress and aging, giving him the same young look he had as a teen. "He went with Donald to get more coal and ice. Riley is upstairs getting ready, you know, the typical routine for teen girls."

Here we go...

June grinned. "She won a medal at the dance competition. She was close to being the first, but her partner lost her balance. She winged it to help her but they caught on."

My mother nodded not caring at all, but showed interest in respect. "Isn't that so?"

"Yeah, yeah, Lucas took her out to a very facy dinner either way. He was still proud of her." June gushed.

She always did this, rub shit in my face. Make her seem better. Always bring up Lucas and Riley's close relationship because she knew it upsets me.

"Ehh, that's nice." My mother shrugged. I chuckled at her actions. She has gotten used to her twin sister being the way she is and our whole situation. It sometimes hurt her, but not as bad as before. Oh no, she had a nice fellow in her life that I've met one or twice. She was happy, Lucas was another mistake to her.

"It was," June replied, not sensing my mother's sarcasm. "So, Wyatt, how's umm.... school?"

I gave her a blank face and a thumbs up. As she was about to reply, Riley came down the stairs, ready to shine light and grace us with her attendance. "Hi Aunti G!"

My mother cringed inside making her eye twitch as she got hugged. Riley kissed her cheek with her glossy lips and squealed. "Daddy said he'd be home in a few minutes." She said letting my poor mother go.

June nodded and went to their kitchen, Riley followed her, passing me as I sat on their yellow couches. I coughed and gave my mother a face. She shook her head and shrugged. "I know."
We sent each other a small smile. Riley had this... thing where she would literally drown herself in perfume, leaving trails that followed her were ever she went. Sometimes I'd wonder if she ever ran out.

"Hello, Grace."

"Lucas."

I didn't look up at my father. It was awkward. We were strangers who saw each other every other week, but never spoke to each other.

"Wyatt," he said, "can you help with the bags? Matt's out there with four more." He went to the kitchen with two bags of ice.

Yea, hi.

I rolled my eyes and walked to where Donald was. It wasn't too cold in Jersey, but it wasn't warm either. The sun was out, but so was also the wind. Donald tossed for bags to the grass and closed the trunk of the car.

"Magic fingers, what are you doing here?" Donald said reaching to hug me. He was one of the people I trusted more than my family. I was comfortable enough to talk and hug him.

"Same old, you?" I said smiling at his nickname for me.

"Same old." He grinned. "I'll take both bags of coal and you get the ice."

I did as I was told and followed him into the house. I sat the ice in the freezer and Donald left the bags next to the garage door.

Donald worked alongside my father. He was a lawyer, his wife, Donna was a nurse and they had two sons. He was the nicest man and she was the loveliest woman. Their older son was in college and their youngest attended high school as a senior. Their names were Gerard and Mikey and they were part of the people I trusted. Gerard loved art and Mikey loved books. They had a close bond with each other and with their parents. The family overall was welcoming to the... uncommon side of things.

"How's your piano recitals going?" Donald asked me quietly.

"Very good, I got two pieces memorized and just need one more to go."

"I know you'll do good, kiddo. You always do." He said patting my shoulder, "Gerard is coming to see you play, he's 'eggcited' as he puts it."

We chuckled, "What an egg head." We both said.

"Well, I hope I don't screw up, I know how much he wants to see me perform. Oh god, I gotta be better than perfect."

"Nonsense, you did like that crazy Riley!" I cringed making him laugh, "let's go see that love sick mother of yours."

We walked outside onto the patio where the grill was heating up. I noticed how the pool was covered with the leafs covering the top. The trees around the outside of thier tall hedges swayed with the wind, making a ruffling sound.

June sat with their dog on the couch along with Riley. Lucas stood by the grill, laying meat on the hot bars. "Go, talk." Donald said in my ear, pushing me towards my father.

He always did this when he was around. He would always get me to go up to talk to him, to try. But when it starts to kind with, it gets ruined.

Sighing, I walk up to my father's right side and stood. He looked over at me and handed me the bowl of meat. I hid my disgust from the smell and smiled at his awkwardly.

"Wyatt." He said.

"Lucas."

".. uh- wanna turn the meat over?" I nodded, anything to try to ease the tension between us.

Growing up with no father made me lose respect for my biological father. I never had or used the same vocabulary as Riley does towards him. It didn't feel right because he never played the father figure roll, my mother did instead.

"Sure," I said trading him the bowl of meat for the thermo fork. He guided me on which to flip and how. I felt my muscles relax a bit instead of tensing up until our moment was ruin.

"Daddy, can I try it?"

"Sure, sweetie, let me take some out first." He turned towards me and held his hand out for the fork. I reluctantly handed them over and walked away towards my mother and Donald said talking.

I could tell my face was down by the rubbing on my shoulder my mouth have me. Donald squeezed my shoulder in reassurance. I knew June got annoyed when I got like this, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't have one moment with Lucas without his full attention being taken away.

It just wasn't fair.

"At the end, it's always the brightest light that burns out." Donald said to me. He always told me that.

"At least you tried." My mother said.

"I guess."

Notes