Apparently, your mother made friends with one of the neighbors and found out that they had a kid your age. Both her and the neighborhood mum agreed to schedule a play date for you two to hang out.
Right now, you were overcame with anxiety despite your mother saying that both you and the kid have something in common. Both you and your mother were standing at their doorstep. While your mother was standing cheerfully beside you waiting for the door to open, you stood with your hands in your hoodie pockets, cussing your brains out.
“Hey, pssst!” your mother whispered.
You looked at her, groggy and tired (some would say you looked like you were just resurrected from hell). “What?”
“His mother said that he stays in his bathroom for long periods of time,” she said as if it were something extraordinary.
You looked away from her gaze and muttered, “It’s either he’s ejaculating or TikToking. I never said I liked both.”
You remembered your friend, Anna, who you now called Anon because that was what she called herself on TikTok. She used to be your best friend. But now that she was too engrossed in TikTok, you two barely even talk. It really hurts when it rhymes, doesn’t it?
Just then, the door opened. You dared not look who stood at the door to let you and your mother in. Your anxiety crippled you at the moment. Crippled.
“So,” you heard the woman say. “Is this h-”
“They,” my mother corrected. “’They’ is my child’s preferred pronoun. I’m sorry if you feel offended.”
“No, Mum. It’s okay,” you told your mother. One more word might have actually killed you right now. New people. Crippled.
“Oh no, I insist,” the woman said. “I’m fine with your preferred pronouns. I want to respect that, don’t worry.”
“May we come in?” Mother smiled.
“Yes you may,” the woman nodded, gesturing the both of you into the house.
When you entered the house, you could fee your heart pounding against your chest. You knew that you shouldn’t be this anxious for just a play date, but it was something entirely new to you. The last time you did this was at least seven years ago with Anon. You didn’t have anxiety then.
New people. Crippled. Me...
To make yourself feel better, you thought about Episode Two of Banana Fish. You then searched your pocket for your inhaler and took a huff of it. Okay. I’m okay. We’re okay. I can do this.
“Callum!” the woman yelled up the stairs.
You were stricken with nostalgia. It was that Déjà Vu feeling again. That name was somehow familiar to you.
“Callum!” the woman called again.
You thought again. You thought and you thought hard. Where was that name from?
“Callum, they’re here!”
You heard a door open upstairs and music turn off. You recognized the song, but what about the name? The name, God Damn You! You heard footsteps, jogging down the stairs swiftly. This made you want to think harder. Callum, Callum, Callum. Callum is a...
“I’m here,” you heard a boy say.
Again, you dared not look at the person who spoke. You just kept your head down. You listened to their conversation and stayed quiet as if you were stuck in a really bad horror game.
“So,” (the woman) “This is my son, Callum.”
“He’s such a handsome young man!” : Mother
“He really is, isn’t he?” : the woman
“Mom, please...” : the kid
They went on like this for a few seconds, touching each other’s kids cheeks, nagging about school performance, how wonderful each other’s kid is. T-touching.
“Anyways,” your mother started. “We should go now.”
“Go where?” you asked, worried. Is she gonna leave me here?
“Nowhere!” she said. Once again, as ecstatic as hell should not be. “We’re just going to my house, while you two stay here at hers!”
“WHAT?” you and the kid exclaimed in chorus.
“Yeah,” the woman said. “No biggie!”
No biggie? NO BIGGIE???
WOMAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT A BIGGIE IS UNTIL I SHOVE A MOTHER FU-
You were the new kid in the neighborhood. You knew absolutely no one in it, despite living here for the last few weeks--three, to be exact. You didn’t like going outside, so you thought that it wouldn’t make sense if you made any friends anyway. You just sat in your room, watched anime and YouTube all day, and ate Oreo cookies that were probably expired. You didn’t really mind that either. Oreos are still Oreos.
One day, you were just sitting on your bed, watching anime, like always. Yesterday, you just finished watching Banana Fish. You cried like a damn baby, so today, you planned to watch Demon Slayer. This is only because you thought that Banana Fish was too much for your heart and that Demon Slayer would probably get rid of all your worries.
As you were going to turn your flat screen TV on, there was a knock on your door. You immediately tucked the remote under your pillow and hid under the covers.You closed your eyes and pretended to sleep as your mother entered the room.
“Y/N,” your mother called. Despite saying it as soft and smooth as a feather flies, she pulled your thick duvet down with the speed of a god.
“Hey!” you groaned. It’s too fucking early for this.
“You didn’t think I’d fall for that,” she said. “Did you?”
Yes, you thought, because I’m an idiot who watches anime till the end of summer vacation.
You groaned as you sat up. Your mother stared at you, delighted. You stared back, skeptical. Oh no.
“Mum,” you started anxiously. “What’s with the face?”
“What face?” she shrugged, still smiling.
“Oh no,” you muttered, with the slightest hint you had from your wisdom.
“Oh yes!” your mother said, almost sounding like this was something evil.
Well, fuck me. “Is it what I think it i-?”
“Today!” she cut you off, ecstatic as hell shouldn’t be. “You are going to
