freedom taste like you

Chapter 18

The smell of melted cheese and warm dough filled the air, and I couldn’t help smiling as I watched Timothy and Emma bicker over which pizza flavor to get. It was light-hearted, easy, the kind of laughter that makes a place feel alive.

We’d chosen a booth near the window, where the golden evening light spilled across the table. Emma looked relaxed, her hair loose for once, and Timothy… well, Timothy looked happy. He hadn’t stopped teasing me since we walked in.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who eats too much vegies on pizza,” he said with mock horror as he handed me the menu.

I smirked. “Maybe I am. You got a problem with that?”

He pretended to think. “Yeah. A big one.”

Emma chuckled softly. “You two are ridiculous,” she said.

When the waiter came, we ended up ordering a little bit of everything — pepperoni for Emma, veggie for me, and something spicy for Timothy that he swore would “change our lives.”

Everything was perfect. For once, there was no tension, no sadness hanging between us. Just laughter, stories, and a sense of belonging I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Until Emma asked that question.

“So, Timothy,” she said casually, sipping her drink, “when will you be going back to school?”

He froze mid-bite, eyes flicking up at her. The easy smile on his face vanished.

“ummm, i dont think im going back anytime soon mum…” he started slowly.

Emma’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Timothy shifted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “I’m taking a break this session.”

The air around the table seemed to tighten instantly.

Emma put down her fork. “A break?” Her tone sharpened, though she tried to stay calm. “Timothy...” She starts.

“Mum, it’s just a semester,” he muttered, frustration already creeping into his voice. “I need time to figure things out.”

“Figure things out?” she repeated, disbelief coloring her tone. “What is there to figure out, Timothy? You worked so hard to get in, and now you want to throw it away?”

“I’m not throwing it away!” he snapped back, louder this time. A few heads turned from nearby tables.

I sat frozen between them, unsure what to say or do. The mood had shifted so suddenly — from laughter to tension in seconds. I could feel Emma’s disappointment, and I could feel Timothy’s stubborn pride.

“Mum, I just… I don’t want to talk about this right now,” he said, his jaw tight.

Emma sighed heavily and rubbed her temple. “Fine,” she said softly, though her tone carried exhaustion. Then she looked at me, forcing a small smile. “Amber, maybe you’d like to see the campus sometime. If you decide to go to college here, Timothy can show you around.”

My eyes widened slightly at the sudden mention of me. “Oh, um… sure,” I said quietly, trying to smile back, though I could still feel the tension crackling between them.

Timothy looked at her, almost offended. “Really? You’re bringing her into this?”

“I’m not bringing anyone into anything,” Emma replied calmly. “I’m simply saying she could check it out with you, if she's interested in attending”

“Yeah,” Timothy muttered. “If I decide to go back.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Even the sound of laughter from the next table felt distant.

I looked between them — Emma staring down at her drink, Timothy glaring at nothing in particular — and felt something ache in my chest. They were both such good people, and it hurt to see them clash like this.

I wanted to say something to ease the tension, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I just smiled softly, picking at my slice of pizza and pretending everything was fine.

Emma eventually reached out, placing her hand gently over mine. “You’re quiet, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

I nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

She smiled faintly. “You’ll like the campus. It’s beautiful.”

I nodded again, forcing a smile. The rest of the meal was quiet — a few forced laughs, a few short exchanges — but the lightness from earlier was gone.

---

The drive home was even quieter.

The city lights flickered past the window as I stared out, pretending to admire them just to avoid the heavy silence. Timothy sat in the passenger seat, his arms crossed, looking out his window too.

Emma drove calmly, but her expression was thoughtful, troubled. I could tell she was trying not to let the argument sit between them, but it lingered anyway.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, she turned off the car and sighed. “Alright,” she said gently, turning toward Timothy. “You and I will talk later.”

“Mum—” he started, but she cut him off softly. “Not now. Let’s not ruin the rest of the evening.”

Then she looked at me and smiled, her voice softening. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll clean up downstairs.”

I nodded, grabbing my small bag and heading upstairs quietly. My chest felt heavy, not just from the argument, but from how easily warmth could turn cold.

I changed into something more comfortable and sat by the window, looking out at the night sky. The stars were faint, but still there. I wondered if families always had these moments, the calm, the laughter, the sudden storms. Maybe that’s what being part of a family meant.

A soft knock at the door broke my thoughts.

“It’s open,” I said quietly.

Timothy stepped in, his expression softer now. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I echoed, managing a small smile.

He leaned against the doorframe. “I, uh… just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I asked softly.

“For… turning dinner into a fight,” he said, his voice low. “Mum just—she doesn’t get it sometimes. I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

I looked at him, seeing the frustration still lingering behind his apology — but also sincerity. “You didn’t ruin it,” I said gently. “Families argue. It happens.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, finally meeting my eyes. “Still. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“It’s okay,” I said softly. “You care about what you want. And she cares about you. That’s not a bad thing.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at me — really looked — and then smiled faintly. “You always say the right thing, you know that?”

I smiled back, feeling warmth crawl up my neck. “i try.”

He took a slow breath, pushing off the doorframe. “Anyway… goodnight, Amber.”

“Goodnight, Timothy,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

When the door closed behind him, I let out a quiet sigh. The room was silent again, but this time it didn’t feel lonely.

Maybe, even with the arguments and awkward silences, this place was starting to feel more like home than I’d ever had before.