than I care to admit. It was only Dad who complained, which always prompts an argument between them. How they’re still married is beyond me. Dad can be a dick, and quite frankly, Mom can be a bitch. They are like fire and gasoline, a deadly combination.
“How are you enjoying college life?” Mom asks.
“I love it, to be honest. Homesick at times, but aside from that, I’m enjoying being in New Haven. It’s a beautiful place.”
“Yale had the most wicked parties.” Dad whistles, digging his fork into his chicken like the caveman he is. “Do you remember that one when the cops were called, and you and I were—”
“Jesus, Dad, please don’t continue that sentence.”
My mom purses her lips, hiding her smile. I take it back, I know why they are still together, and lord knows I don’t need any details. On more than one occasion, Dad has used the word kinky, and I demanded he stop talking, especially because it involves my mother.
“I hope you’re enjoying the social aspects. It’s good to have a well-rounded college experience. A college boyfriend isn’t so bad, either.”
“I’m kind of… well, seeing someone.”
My ears perk up, though I keep my gaze fixated on the plate in front of me. She’s beautiful. Of course, she has a boyfriend. This is what you do in college—date and fuck around.
“Oh, from Yale?”
“Actually, no, he attends John Hopkins.”
“How did you meet?” Mom continues. “John Hopkins isn’t exactly close.”
“Back in LA, we… uh… decided to continue our relationship.”
I don’t know why this information bothers me. A stupid high school crush means nothing. And she’s a fool to think she can keep a guy from screwing the girls knocking on his door. What do you care, anyway?
“Well, take it from us, young love can turn into a lifetime. I’m sure your parents can say the same.”
Great, now they just contradicted my entire thought process.
The rest of the conversation revolves around college. My input is required here and there. Dad steers the conversation to work, which raises the topic of hiring a new assistant. For fuck’s sake, why does everyone feel the need to entertain themselves with my goddamn business? This is beyond a joke now.
“I’m sure Amelia can handle the adult conversation,” Dad says, placing his fork down. “Son, sometimes you have to think with your head and not your dick. These women, not worth the quick fuck. What you need now is someone to make your head spin. The kind of woman you can’t stop thinking about.”
“I hate to agree with your father.” Mom grins, which is unusual for her. “When you find that woman, Will, nothing else in the world will matter.”
“Okay, so thanks for the pep talk,” I mumble, rolling my eyes of boredom. “This is exactly why I keep my personal life private and avoid your invitations to dinner.”
“You don’t want to knock up some hussy,” Dad tells me.
“Jesus, Dad. Give me some fucking credit.”
Beside me, Amelia has lowered her head, though from the corner of my eye, I can see a smile playing on her lips.
“Let me guess… you have something to add to this?” I question her.
“It’s late,” Amelia replies, checking her phone. “I should catch the train back.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. Rocky, drive her back.”
“Of course.” Dad wipes his mouth, pushing his chair back to find his keys.
“I’ll take her,” I offer, all eyes falling on me, including Amelia’s, who isn’t shy in hiding her annoyed expression.
“Even better.” Dad winks, sitting back down and sliding the tray of chicken toward him.
Amelia says goodbye to my parents, agreeing to come back and visit soon. On the elevator ride down to the parking garage, other residents occupy the space making a conversation less than appealing.