Bestfriends Shouldn’t Know How You Taste

Chapter 50

Chapter 50
I paled as a ghost. I remember mom and dad
talking about her, referring to her as a mental
patient. From what I’ve heard of the things she has
done, she wasn’t such a good person. But she was
still blood, no matter all of the horrid things she’s
done.
“I’m so sorry.” I felt like I was supposed to say
that. I knew Margaret’s history with my mom and
it wasn’t pleasant. But I also knew mom never
holds a grudge.
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I also knew that dad was silently mourning inside.
It hurt him, that was the woman who took care of
him. She’s his mom.
I walk over to a vacant sofa and gently sat down,
hoping that they wouldn’t notice my wince when
my bum touched the cushion. Blake really had a
huge cock. It is know wonder he was always so
cocky.
Don’t act like you don’t like it. The little voice
inside my head reveals. I sigh. This is really not
the time to think such thoughts. Mom looked lost
as she watched dad rake a hand through his hair.
“We never got along but I do feel sorry that she
died this way.” She sighed.
I nodded. “Do you know what led her to do this to
herself?”
She looks saddened. “We had gotten word that she
was doing much better but I guess this wasn’t
accurate. Margaret really wasn’t mentally stable.”
Dad comes off the phone and sits beside mom. He
pulls her on his lap and she rests her head on his
chest. He sighs in content as if having mom this
close to him comforted him instantly. I loved their
relationship though it cringes both Arden and I to

see them this way.
“They found her hanging from a fan around seven
in the morning. She used the sheet of her bed.” He
whispers, brushing his fingers through mom’s hair.
“I’m so sorry baby.” Mom whispered, kissing his
jaw. He clenches his eyes and when he does open
it again it’s now moist with unwashed tears. My
heart aches for him.
“I admit I hated her, loathed her even but she’s
still my mom, the woman who raised me. I can’t
help but think that things would’ve been different if
she wasn’t senile.” He grumbles as if hating
himself for even feeling sad about her death.
“Why had they not called you sooner dad? This
seems to be a bit fishy.” Arden voices out. I
chewed on my lip thinking of what Arden had
implied. He was right. Why hadn’t they called him
sooner?
“Does grandpa even know?” Arden ask.
“I do not know why they had failed to inform me of
my mother’s pa*sing sooner. Dad found out the
same time I did, probably even earlier. He doesn’t
feel a bit of remorse.” He sighs. “And quite frankly
I don’t want to think of any possibilities of why
they didn’t tell me sooner. I’m sure they had their
reasons.”
Arden nods in understanding. “Well I guess we’ll be
attending a funeral soon.” He shrugs seeming
nonchalant.
I couldn’t blame him. He never knew Margaret, a
woman supposedly our grandma but was the devil
incarnated that wanted to kill me when I was still
in mom’s womb.
“I guess we will.” Dad grunts pulling mom closer. I
hated funerals.
Monday
“What’s up with you two today?” Ryan asks,
putting down his burger on the plate. It was lunch
and we all were seated around the lunch table,
each having a different food to eat.
Blake and I were sitting usually closer than we
ever had been. It felt natural to be this close to
him but I guess everyone was noticing, including
our bestfriend Ryan. I felt guilty for keeping such a
secret away from him.
“Nothing’s up yet.” Blake shrugged but I knew the
meaning behind the word. Ryan smirks, throwing
his head back laughing at his friends ridiculous
sexual innuendo.
Stopping his laughing fit, he looks between us and
gives a sly gaze. “You two have been awfully closer
than usual and that’s saying something. Just like
lovers I might add.” He accuses and gauges for a
reaction.
I choke on the fry I was eating and quickly reach
over for the juice so I could wash it down. “What
gave you that idea?” I ask after clearing my throat.
I was avoiding his knowing stare. I looked around
for prying eyes.
“Just answer me this one question.” He starts.
“Where did you two go after english clas was
done? I heard moaning and grunting sounds
coming from Mrs. Peter’s clas. It really didn’t
sound like Mrs. Peter. It sounded awfully familiar.”
He chuckles then says in a girly voice. “Oh Blake,
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