Sluggishly and reluctantly, Zac pulled himself from bed the next morning and took his time getting dressed. He settled for slowly walking down the stairs, feigning deep interest in the pictures adorning the wall.
"Zac?"
Calmly, he looked up from the picture of his sisters, "Yeah, Mom?" He asked distantly.
Her face screwed up in concern, "Is something wrong? Are you sick?"
Thoughts of playing sick to get out of school turned in his mind for a few seconds before he answered, "No, Mom. I'm not sick, just a little out of it today." He shrugged carelessly. "I think it might be the weather or something."
The look she gave him showed him she wasn't convinced by his lame excuse. He shrugged that off as well though. She didn't need to know of his insecurities. He'd get past them on his own.
Either that or quit Seymour. But even as the concept entered his mind, he knew he already couldn't. Seymour was a major part of his life. He couldn't possible think of quitting it; it'd be like cutting out a piece of him.
Quietly he took his seat at the dining table, and started on the plate of food that had already been made for him. He ate in silence, and drank his juice, both with extreme care.
"You're going to be late." His father announced looking up from his coffee cup and newspaper.
His shoulders slouched, "I still have plenty of time."
He didn't miss the worried look that passed between his parents, he just chose to ignore for the time being. If they wanted him to know their concerns, that'd express it in their own time.
It'll probably in the car where I really can't get up and go away from the convo. He thought with wry amusement. Of curse you could always try jumping from a moving vehicle. His head shook, Nah, that could be too painful.
Let's try and not do anything that involves physical pain, shall we? He asked himself before standing and clearing away his dishes.
Taking a deep breath he looked at his parents and nodded, "Okay." He announced, signifying he was ready to go. Then he smiled brightly, "Wait!"
They froze from their spots, which was halfway off their chairs.
He grinned at their situations; "I have to brush my teeth first."
Sighing, his parents both sank back down into their chairs, and went back to their drinks of coffee and their newspaper articles while Zac trudged up the stairs. He tried hard to thoroughly clean each and every tooth, wash his face and hands, and then brushed his hair until it shone and he pulled it back into a tail.
Again he took his time descending the stairs, looking over the pictures again. He saw his parents waiting impatiently by the door.
"You're not going to have time to visit with Jakob this morning." His mother warned as they walked out the door.
Zac smiled to himself; You say that like it's a bad thing, Mother.
