Walking Travesty

The drive home seems to fly by. The anxiety that Alex had distracted me from earlier was coming back, and I had to hold my hands tightly together to keep them from shaking.
Normally I wouldn't be so worried about my mom being angry with me over something like this, but lately she was snapping over small things. Sneaking out to a concert and staying in a hotel with my boyfriend was a big thing.
Alex was either oblivious to my anxiety, or trying to distract me from it, because he was talking about baseball and peanut butter. I nod and laugh when appropriate, but my mind keeps wandering to the inevitable argument that was awaiting me at home.
When we pull up to my house he turn to look at me. "Want me to come in?" he asks as he glances at my house.
I shake my head no, and hug him quickly. "No, thanks though."
I pull away and he smiles, "If you need anything, text me, okay?"
I nod and kiss his cheek. "Bye." I get out of his car and slowly walk up my driveway. I hesitate at the door, then open it and walk inside. Even though I want to sneak up the stairs and hide in my room, I slip off my shoes and follow the smell of food into the kitchen.
My mom has her back to me, and seems oblivious to my being in the doorway. "Hi," I say softly, hoping she doesn't hear me. She stops stirring whatever is in a pot on the stove and turns to look at me. "Before you yell at me, I'm really, really sorry about lying to you and it was stupid of me to do, and if I could go back I wouldn't do it again." even though I'm spewing complete bullshit, it sounds apologetic.
Surprisingly she laughs, and it's not a "You're a lying bitch and I'm going to make you regret birth" laugh either. "I don't give a shit about the concert," she informs me, and I frown. She didn't care and she was swearing? "I'm mad because I had a guest last night, and I wanted you to meet him."
I stare at her in surprise. "Him?" I ask with a deeper frown.
"Well, I met him a few months ago and-"
"A few months ago?" I interrupt. "You cheated on dad?" I stare at her in disbelief.
She frowns a little and turns to stir the pot's contents. "He was cheating on me," she mumbles.
A humorless laugh escapes my lips. "Well damn, that makes it so much better," I say sarcastically.
"I'm done with your attitude," she says calmly. "He's coming over in fifteen minutes. I'd appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself during lunch."
I roll my eyes. "I'm not hungry and meeting him is the last thing on my to-do list. I'll be in my room."
"No, you're meeting him," she says matter-of-factly.
"Or what?" I scoff, crossing my arms.
She glances over her shoulder, a dead serious look on her annoyed face. "No Alex."
I roll my eyes. "Because you have so much control over what I do," I laugh sarcastically.
She purses her lips and her eyes plead with me. "Please? He's really a great guy."
"Fine," I let out a sigh and run my fingers through my unbrushed hair. "What does one wear when meeting the guy her middle-aged mother has been fucking?"
My mom glares at me, and I know I shouldn't be so harsh, but I'd always hated how my dad cheated on her, knowing it killed her inside, but apparently the cheating was mutual. She'd led me to believe he was the bad guy, destroying their marriage, when in reality she was too.
She turns back to the pot and I leave the kitchen and go up to my room to change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The guy, who just so happens to be the thirty-something year old she'd brought home that one night, was a doctor by the name of Phil Fredericks. Apparently he works at the hospital she's a receptionist at, and even though he seems perfectly nice- funny even, I can't help but glare at him all through lunch.
"So anyways," my mom's voice drags me out of my attempts to mentally stab both of them. "Phil and I both have this week off, and we thought it would be nice for us all to go away for a few days. Get to know each other."
I stir my untouched tomato soup around, and watch the swirly pattern. "As much as I would love to spend time with the constant reminder of my mom's sexscapades, I would much rather go to school," I say in the sweetest voice possible.
Phil shifts in his seat uncomfortably and my mom gives me a death glare. "Lina, please."
I roll my eyes and stand up, walking my uneaten food over to the trash. "I have homework. Nice meeting you," I mutter before escaping the kitchen. As I walk up the stairs I can hear my mom apologizing profusely for my behavior.