Cornered by Rhoda Belleza

my phone to text Nate about the tragic turn of events. After I gave him the basic details:
    ME: you’d think that someone who knows what it feels like to be excluded wouldn’t turn around and do that to others
    NATE: you know nothing at all about human psychology, do you?
    His little gem of wisdom pissed me off, mainly because I knew he was probably right. I felt so shitty right then. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore, but I needed to talk to someone. I checked the clock. It wasn’t very late, and my parents were a full time zone away. I was sure my dad was still awake reading. I debated for a minute, then pressed the button.
    â€œWhat’s the trouble, Bryan?” Dad asked, barely giving me time to say hello.
    â€œNothing’s the trouble,” I lied.
    â€œJust calling to say hello? I don’t believe you.”
    â€œGeez, why can’t I just be calling to say hello?”
    â€œI can hear it in your voice.” Stupid parental superpowers. Was I that obvious? Dad and I never really had deep conversations. He expected me to do things a certain way, and mostly I did them. When I messed up, he yelled and that was about it. I never really thought about it, but maybe all I wanted was to impress him. Maybe that’s even why I didn’t have the guts to go against the crowd, because I didn’t want him to think I was weird. But maybe that’s just making excuses.
    â€œI’m feeling guilty about something,” I said.
    â€œWhy? Who’s pregnant?” I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be funny, but it made me laugh.
    â€œWhat?” I said. “No. Nice assumption, Dad. It’s just that . . . I’m . . . I’m feeling guilty about something that happened a long time ago. I don’t feel like going into it, but I was a jerk once.”
    â€œHate to break it to you, kid, but you were a jerk more than once.”
    â€œThanks?”
    â€œI mean—we all are, Son. That’s part of being alive. We’re all just trying the best we can. Guilt is a useless emotion if we let it eat us up. But it’s there for a reason. It’s telling us to do better next time. That’s all we can do. Do better next time.”
    â€œThanks, Dad,” I said. Weird thing is, it actually did make me feel a little better. We chatted for a little while longer, about not much of anything. I thanked him again.
    â€œYou’re welcome, Son,” he said. “I still have no idea what we’re talking about and nobody better be pregnant.”
    â€¢ • •
    I stood in Tina and Eli’s driveway looking at their house. It was a very quiet suburban neighborhood. I knew they’d think it was pretty weird that I decided to walk/run all the way back, but I was banking on them being cool with it. I opened the door and heard the TV on in the living room. I poked my head in, trying not to scare them.
    â€œHey,” I said.
    Uncle Eli and Aunt Tina both jumped up and made the same exact confused face.
    â€œHow the heck did you get back home?” Uncle Eli asked.
    â€œI decided to walk. Well, run,” I said.
    â€œNot a great concert then?” Eli said.
    â€œIt, um, had its moments,” I said. “But I had to leaveunexpectedly.” They looked at each other but said nothing. “I’m just going to go upstairs to lie down.” Which I did. Until a half hour later, when the doorbell rang.
    I stuck my head over the balcony to see who the hell was showing up so late, even though I pretty much knew who it would be. Tiffany looked sweaty and exhausted, wrung out like I did after a race. I guess playing a concert was sort of the same thing. She was smiling politely at my aunt and uncle. How did she even find me? And what was she doing here, acting like it was perfectly normal?
    â€œHi, nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Forbes. I’m so sorry to show up so late. I just, well, I had to talk to Bryan.” They looked up