Chapter 11: ANOTHER WISH WON'T HURT

I dragged myself back home, my soul crushed. As I entered the kitchen, the aroma of sizzling pasta and tomato sauce enveloped me, a familiar scent that normally comforted me. But tonight, it felt like a monotony, a reminder of our mundane routine. Mom stood at the counter, expertly chopping onions with a precision that came from years of practice. Her eyes, though, told a different story. Red-rimmed and weary, they seemed to hold a deep exhaustion, a silent plea for respite. I felt a pang in my chest.

"Hi!" she said, her voice warm but strained, as she turned to face me. I forced a weak smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside. My elbows rested on our small kitchen island, a habitual gesture that brought me closer to her. The island was cluttered with the usual suspects - a jar of pasta sauce, a bag of flour, a few stray bread crumbs - a testament to our simple, uneventful life.

I sighed, feeling empty and lost, like a vessel drained The universe seemed to be conspiring against me, and I just wanted to shut it all down. The anger and hurt still simmered inside, refusing to dissipate. Mom's eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze probing mine, searching for what's wrong with her son. I avoided her gaze, not ready to talk about the tangled mess of emotions within me.

I thought about Grandma. I had no idea Nathan's words had awakened a pain I didn't know existed. My mom was my everything - my guiding star, my safe haven, my world. When I say the apple of my eye, I mean it literally. My beautiful Brazilian mother, with her dark hair, bright smile, and sparkling eyes, was the center of my universe. Yeah, they got that part right, at least.

"Hey, h..." I started, but my voice faltered, unable to muster the energy to continue. Even breathing felt like a chore, like my lungs were weighted with lead. My mom's gaze remained fixed on the onions she was chopping, her hands moving with a precision that belied her concern.

"Someone's back early, how was the party?" she asked, her tone light, but curious .

I sighed, and my mom's head snapped towards me, her maternal instincts on high alert. She always noticed everything, every subtle change in my tone, every flicker of emotion on my face.

"Chester, what happened? Are you okay?" she asked, a hint of panic creeping into her voice.

I couldn't answer, my words stuck in my throat like a lump of stone. I stared into her eyes, wordless. Nathan's words echoed in my mind once more, and my eyes welled up, the world blurring around me. I stood upright, my gaze fixed on the floor, refusing to blink, refusing to let the tears fall. Crying wasn't really my thing, but it seemed my eyes had other plans.

My mom rushed to me, her eyes filled with concern. She gently raised my head, her fingers cradling my chin, and that's when the dam broke. Tears streamed down my cheeks like a torrential waterfall, humiliating me with their insistence. Oh, for crying out loud, tears! Can't you see I'm trying to be strong here?!

My mom's face contorted in fear, her voice trembling. "What's wrong, Chester? Oh, baby, please look at me! Shhh, it's okay, whatever it is, we'll face it together." She pleaded, trying her best not to sound as freaked out as she actually was.

I embraced her. She smelled of onions and olive oil. I was aware that I had grown taller than her by a few inches, my dad's genes finally making their presence known. I guess I got the best of both worlds - my mom's striking features and my dad's towering height.

For a moment we just stood there. I sobbed uncontrollably into her hair, and I could feel the pain melting away. In that moment, it was just us, lost in our own little bubble of pain and comfort.

Mom didn't say a word, she just held me tight, her gentle pats on my back a soothing balm for my battered soul. She was a good woman. When I finally felt ready, I released my grip on her, and she wiped my tears with her onion-scented hands, oblivious to the pungent aroma that made me laugh and cry even harder. It was a ridiculous moment, both of us lost in a mix of tears and giggles.

I smiled weakly, my lids heavy with exhaustion. "Chester, what's wrong?" she asked again, her voice filled with concern. "Did something happen at the party?" I shook my head, my smile growing wider, my eyes struggling to stay open. "No, Mom, I'm telling you, nothing's wrong!" I protested.

But she wouldn't let up, her eyes narrowing in a playful scowl. "I know something's bothering you, Chester! Don't lie to me!" I raised an eyebrow, my grin mischievous. "Mom, I'm fine, I swear! It's just...puberty..." I trailed off, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Her face lit up with a knowing smile, and she asked again, her voice softening, "Are you sure, baby?" I nodded emphatically, my eyes locked on hers. "YES, Mom! A thousand and one percent sure!" I enunciated.

"I thought your dad and you were past all this drama, hmm," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "He's not doing a great job, is he?" She raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, Chester, it's all just a phase. Give it time, and you'll get through it." I smirked, my lips twisting into a wry smile. "I hope so."

She gestured upwards, her eyes shining with warmth. "Now, go freshen up and come eat dinner. It'll be ready soon." She kissed me on the forehead, then moved on to my cheeks, nose, eyes, and basically every part of my face. "Ew!" I exclaimed, laughing and squirming away, my face flushing with embarrassment. "Mom, not the lips, that's a no-go area! We leave those for my girlfriend." I teased, trying to sound manly.

My mom chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "You're not a man yet, Chester, and even when you're a hundred, you'll always be my baby!" She exclaimed, as if she had just resolved world war two. "I see you're going to leave me for a young lady, ey?" She asked, her voice playful.

"I would never!" I declared, my voice dripping with dramatic flair, like a teenage Romeo - the one I loved to hate. "I'll go to my room!" I exclaimed, stomping up the stairs, my feet thundering on the wooden steps.

My mom's voice echoed after me, filled with playful suspicion. "You don't have a girlfriend, do you?" She yelled, her words hanging in the air.

I spun around, my laughter bursting out like a jack-in-the-box. "Don't worry, Mom, you're the only woman in my heart!" I proclaimed, my grin cheesy and over-the-top. I gazed at her smile, radiant over the banister, and my heart felt at peace.

The bond that existed between me and my mom was just... beautiful . As I settled into my bedroom, surrounded by posters of my favorite bands and the faint scent of fresh laundry - great, mom did laundry. I pulled out my worn chronicle and began to pen down every detail of that quite unfortunate day. I wrote Nathan in block letters and I drew ugly faces at the sides.

As I wrote, I couldn't help but shake my head at my own foolishness. Why on earth had I ever wished for fame alone? It seemed so hollow and made no sense. Why chase fame alone? The thought of being famous yet nearly bankrupt, both financially and emotionally, made me shudder.

I had to summon Sukani that very moment, my heart racing with anticipation. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and envisioned Sukani before me. "Raveix ouer Sukani, raveix ouer Sukani," I whispered.

"Yes," Sukani responded.

"Sukani, I wish to become extremely wealthy!" I exclaimed, my thoughts overflowing with visions of luxury and excess. "I want riches, I wish my parents were the wealthiest in Red's Field, with mansions and yachts and everything!"

"Granted!"

But, as before, the bitter taste hit me like a ton of bricks. The drowsiness, the heaviness, everything kept going in reverse. My mom's smile faded, Nathan's ugly smirk reappeared, and I felt nauseated, like I'd eaten a spoiled meal. I wished there was a "toilet" or a "delete" button in this whole wish thing. Finally, darkness enveloped me.

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