After Hours (boyxboy) | ✓

Bonus Chapter Three

Brendon’s POV

Emmett and I had been dating for a while. Thanksgiving was in two weeks, which would mark our five-month anniversary. One more month, and it’d be six. A half a year. Time flies, right?

As we were discussing Thanksgiving and our anniversary, a pretty scary topic came up: Family. Parents, in particular. We’d kind of been avoiding this subject for a while. I’d been over to Emmett’s house a million times, and he’d been to mine probably even more. But we still hadn’t formally met each others’ parents. And I was okay with that. So was he. But the parents themselves were getting antsy. Plus, I figured it’d be nice to not have to avoid his mom every time I came over. 

So we decided that we’d get it over with. We’d meet the parents. It was the third weekend in November, and we were going to squeeze in two lunches and two dinners — one meal for each parent. We’d have to meet each one separately (both of us had the pleasure of dealing with divorce). This would make for a very stressful weekend.

Our first parent was Emmett’s mom. I’d actually seen her around a few times. We knew each other, but we’d never been formally introduced. Which was probably for the better. From what I’d heard, Emmett’s mom was pretty similar to mine — both insisted on online dating, both had passive-aggressive outlooks when it came to their son’s sexualities, and most of all, they were both nuts. So I wasn’t too excited about this lunch.

I was supposed to meet Emmett at some place downtown. He told me he’d get a table with his mom and just meet me there. 

After finding a decent-looking outfit and combing my hair, I was off to lunch. The music in my car did little to calm my nerves. I wasn’t usually nervous about anything. But adults in general freaked me out. And Emmett’s parents especially did. They had both probably heard about the events of last summer, and I’d probably get a very strict talking to, regardless of how things went. 

I finally pulled up to the restaurant. Through the window, I could see Emmett sit down. I hopped out of the car, and shuffled to the door. Inside was loud and tight. I guess the place was pretty popular.

Emmett sat at a small table across from a middle-aged woman who I assumed was his mom. She looked just like him: Her hair was the same dark brown as his, but had strands of grey scattered throughout. As the woman’s familiar hazel eyes met mine, she tilted her head. I started walking over, until I was just behind Emmett’s seat. 

“He should be here soon…” he glanced around the room.

I tapped his shoulder, avoiding eye contact with his mother. “I’m here.”

“Oh!” He smiled and patted the seat next to his. “Have a seat.” I sat down and nodded at the woman across from me.

He kissed my cheek and turned to his mother. “Mom, this is Brendon… Brendon, this is my mom.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Summers—”

“Oh, just call me Penne! You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment! Emmett talks about you all the time, he never stops…” she trailed off. I felt my cheeks get hot. 

“Mom,” he hissed. I chuckled awkwardly. At least she was nice. 

She cleared her throat and leaned across the table. “So tell me all about you. Emmett says you play tennis?” 

“I — uh, yeah. Varsity tennis,” I stuttered. I cursed my mouth for betraying me, and took a sip of water. This was going to be harder than I thought.

“Very nice,” she said, “And you do debate club too?”

I coughed. “Yes.”

Emmett kicked me under the table. “He likes to argue.”