Rebel at Spruce High

Upon coming down the stairs, I’m pained to discover my mom and dad at the breakfast table with laptops opened, softly typing away. My mom is first to notice us. When she sees Toby, her brow creases. “Joe, Donovan has a guest.” My dad pulls down his glasses and turns around in his chair, taking us in. “Oh, hello there,” he greets us. “I’m going to take a wild guess here and say you’re the wonderful Toby my son won’t stop talking about.”

My face goes red. I don’t talk about him that much, I growl inside my head, annoyed. “This is my boyfriend Toby,” I say, presenting him. “He was just staying—” I cut myself off, my eyes going wide.

Toby heard it, too. He looks at me, just as surprised.

My parents share a look. It’s my dad who speaks first. “Well, I knew he was your friend, but looks like things seem to have …” He chuckles despite himself. “… progressed?”

Toby, all manners and southern charm, swiftly makes his way from the stairs right up to the breakfast table in the bay window. “Hi there, Mr. and Mrs. Pane. I’m Toby Michaels.” He extends a hand toward my dad first, who shakes it, followed by my mom, who regards Toby with a soft, impressed, eyebrows-slightly-raised expression. “I worked late at Biggie’s last night, and Vann always makes sure I have a ride, since it’s so … since it’s so late and all.” He smiles, blushing, then peers at me over his shoulder. “You have a very kind, considerate, protective son. I’m proud to know him.”

Normally, his words would set my heart on fire and make me grin. In this particular set of circumstances, I’m all but squirming and tap-dancing inside my chest with discomfort.

Yet somehow, my parents are immediately taken with him. “I am very pleased to meet you,” says my mother first. Then she eyes me. “See? This wasn’t so bad. And here you were, hiding him from us like some shameful secret.”

“Now, Amelia,” my dad butts in, smiling. “Nothing wrong at all with our son wanting to keep his life private. I’d invite you two to have some breakfast,” he says to us, “but we’ve already eaten. Unless, I suppose, you don’t mind warming up some—”

“It’s not a problem,” I quickly tell him, coming up to Toby’s side. “We were going out to get a bite anyway.”

Toby blinks. “We were?” I nudge him. “We were,” he states in sudden agreement. “There’s … There’s this amazing place with the best crêpes you’ve ever tasted. Country Lovin’. Highly recommend.”

My dad smiles warmly. “We’ll try that next time. Oh, perhaps tomorrow morning,” he then suggests, turning to Mom. “Sunday crêpes sound perfect! I didn’t know this town had them.”

“It has a lot you don’t know,” murmurs my mother cryptically before turning her eyes back to Toby (and leaving my dad with a baffled expression). “I’d love to get to know you better, though. All I know is you’re the costar of my son’s play at the high school.”

“It isn’t my play—” I interject, irked.

“Your son has been awesome,” Toby blurts out. “He makes me feel so comfortable. I’m not really an actor. Honestly, the most I’ve ever done is paint the sets and props since I was a freshman. I’m a bit overwhelmed to be cast in my first play as a senior, and …” He looks at me, finding my face to be taken aback by his words. “And I can’t be luckier to have a more supportive castmate and costar.”

I keep my gaze averted, staring off somewhere through the window at the backyard, the patio, and the swimming pool where our relationship took a sudden turn last night. I can’t seem to take in the curious, appraising look of my mother right now.

But looking away doesn’t help me escape hearing her words. “I’m very pleased to hear that, Toby,” she says, looking at me.

“He’s a really great guy,” he continues, laying it on thick. “I’ve always had trouble making friends and … and this town is only so big. I’m lucky I met Vann. He changed my life in the best way.”

I’ve got to cut in. If I hear another word of this gushing … “Okay, there, they get the idea.” I put an arm over his back, not-so-subtly steering him away from the table. “We gotta go. Later.”

Despite my efforts, Toby slips out from under my arm to give my parents one last farewell. “It was so great meeting you two,” he says with his big, charming smile. “I hope we get to see more of each other.” And after another nice comment from my dad, we at last head for the door.

Outside in the sun while we’re putting on our helmets, Toby keeps eyeing me, but says nothing as we mount my bike and take off into town. A handful of minutes later, we’re seated at a table by the window in Country Lovin’, the title of which sounds more like some lame tourist spot to me. My sarcasm and attitude is laid to rest the second I get my first bite of chocolate crêpe past my lips, and my mouth explodes with incredible taste beyond any kind of description I could fathom. “Told you,” Toby mutters at me with a cute smirk on his face.