Is it weird to have a thing for your best friend's father? As far back as I could remember, I had. I felt a tightening in my shorts as I caught a glimpse of his abdomen and the dark strands of hair trailing down from his naval. I watched him lift the end of his dark blue t-shirt up and wipe the sweat from his brow. Pete's father had been a football player in his younger days and he had kept his build intact.
His shirt was off and his tanned skin glistened under the sun. We went into the kitchen and I saw him through the window. I closed the front door and followed Pete down the hall. With no more fighting, Pete's house was safe terrain again. She moved out the day she gave him the papers. I remember the date because it was exactly one week after my eighteenth birthday, four months ago now. Claire Wilson filed for divorce three years later. Just before I went downstairs, I looked left and saw Pete standing in the doorway of his parents' room. He moved aside as I walked out the door but I still brushed against his stomach and felt the hairs on my arm stand up. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest as I stood up and grabbed my things. I can't remember if I said anything in response or if I just stared, open-mouthed like an idiot. Footsteps came quickly towards the door and it opened again. 'I'll be back in a sec,' he said, hurrying out of the room and shutting the door behind him. It was grownup stuff, none of it interested me much at the time. I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying because they were shouting so loud. The voices were inside again and they were getting louder. We heard their voices move out into the garden followed by a loud bang. 'It's been like this everyday for the last week,' he said. I had never seen or heard Pete's parents argue before so I tried to make a joke about it, but he didn't laugh.
We were in his room and everyone else was due in less than an hour when we heard something smash downstairs, followed by a lot of yelling. He had invited twelve kids from our class to his house for a barbeque. I stopped coming after Pete's fifteenth birthday. They took it for granted I would probably show up. Some afternoons after school, I would show up with Pete unannounced and his mother would always have enough food ready, just in case. I could just walk right in, even if I wasn't with Pete. I was so familiar to his parents I didn't need to knock. I have lost count of the number of nights I spent at Pete's house throughout my childhood and well into my teens. Have you ever noticed how people's homes often have a certain smell? That's how I knew it was different. The house looked the same as it always had and yet this time, it felt like I was going behind enemy lines.