My father and I had run into someone’s father—I couldn’t tell you who they were, but I recognized their face from school events—and the guy had turned into an unfortunate rambling mess. It had been extremely awkward to watch, and despite being able to, my father hadn’t alleviated the tension at all, just ending the conversation with something about getting the paperwork to him by next week. I honestly couldn’t tell you what they had been talking about, and my father, moments later, had been back to his upbeat self as he asked me about Spotify and if he should get an account.
…Yeah, he was a bit of a dork.
Yet, despite the fear that my family and my guys seemed to conjure, they still couldn’t completely stop the rumors and comments that had started circulating about my friends and I as we’d gotten older. I didn’t know if my boys heard them or not, and I hadn’t brought it up to them yet, because even if I did, we all knew people would gossip if they wanted to. It was practically human nature, and I had no intention of stressing them out more than they already were.
Overall, the comments hadn’t bothered me all that much, and probably wouldn’t have affected me… if they hadn’t turned so cruel. So vindictive. So harsh. I frowned, wondering how much of a different person I’d be if this past year had never happened.
I needed to tell them how bad it had gotten.
It was a constant source of guilt in my head, warning me that I needed to let my guys know what was going on. I was hesitant, though, and it wasn’t just that I felt like they were hiding something from me. We told one another almost everything, always. So what could be bad enough that they wouldn’t feel comfortable telling me?
I put those thoughts aside for now, knowing that they could wait until I was alone tonight. Plus, nothing could stop me from seeing King. It had been all damn summer.