[Spirit of Lust 2] Chapters 264 & 265. (Patreon)

Chapter 264: Mr. And Mrs. West.

Mr. West came up to me and extended his hand for a handshake. The moment he did I felt myself tense up. Mr. West shook my hand with firm confidence and geniality, and in contrast I shook his stiffly and with suddenly renewed nerves.

Had they been watching while I talked to their children? Maybe I acted too familiar with them… But as I was worrying, Mr. West began to laugh.

“My, the world really is small, isn’t it? To think Robert’s rescuer was one of Sarah’s friends!”

“We didn’t even bother to ask you your name,” Mrs. West said. She had a hand on her cheek as she smiled apologetically at me. “Sarah talks about you all the time, but since she never described how you looked, we didn’t even consider that you may know each other.”

“I don’t talk about him that much…” Sarah muttered.

Mrs. West chuckled. “Yes you do, honey.”

“I…” I swallowed. Come on, Oliver! Get your act together! You can talk to people now. Why are you getting all anxious? Sure, they are the parents of one of your girlfriends, some of the people in the world you least want to disappoint or give a bad impression to, but even so… “I should’ve asked when I heard your son say your last name was West,” I said, speaking despite the tightness in my chest and trying to put on the casual smile I wore at work. “I don’t know why it didn’t cross my mind.”

“Please, there’s a million Wests out there,” Mr. West said, shrugging as he laughed. “But come in, let’s not stand here at the doorway.”

“Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll have dinner ready soon,” said Mrs. West.

The sizzling and the smell of the stir fry were making my mouth water already. Maybe part of it was that working on cleaning the roof of the shed at school had made me work up an appetite, but Mrs. West cooking is always a delight no matter how many times I try it.

Mr. West offered me a glass of orange juice and I accepted. We sat at the small table along with Sarah while Mrs. West finished cooking. She still talked to us, though.

“Again, Oliver, thank you very much for finding our Robert,” she said with a tired sigh. “I never thought he’d run away like that. He’s usually so well behaved.”

I smiled wryly. “He said he ran because you wouldn’t buy him a toy he wanted.”

“Well, he told you the truth,” Mr. West said. “We told him he could only ask for one thing. He asked for a toy gun that shoots foam bullets, but then he saw this robot and he’s crazy for those. I suppose he wanted it enough to try and throw a tantrum.”

“He knows those don’t work,” Sarah said, shrugging. She looked at me. “I’ve never gotten anything from throwing a tantrum, either.”

I smiled. “No wonder you’re a hard worker, then.”

“Right?” Mrs. West laughed. “We’re really proud of her, even if her attitude could still use some work.”

“Mom!”

“You’re a hard worker too, aren’t you, Oliver?” Mr. West asked me. “Sarah said you started working at a coffee shop.”

“Ah. W-Well, yes.”

“Is it difficult? Sarah also told us you used to have a really bad case of social anxiety.”

I was beginning to wonder if Grace had also told her family my entire story. I suppose it saved us a lot of trouble, but it was a little weird.

“It… used to be, yes, but I’m really glad I took that job. I’ve learned a lot there.”

Mr. West smiled. “Anxiety is the mind working in the future,” he told me. “The uncertainty of where our actions will lead to can be frightening, especially so when we focus on the worst-case scenarios. What’s worse, the more you try to rationalize it, the worse you feel. You start thinking that you’re stupid for not being able to do things others can, for being scared of things that may not even happen at all.”

My jaw dropped. That was it. That was exactly it. That was precisely how I felt back then, and even now. Thinking in the future, assuming the worst will happen and therefore doing nothing.

“It’s far more difficult to overcome that anxiety that people believe,” Mr. West continued. “In fact, you could say that the smarter and more self-aware a person is, the harder it is to overcome anxiety. We may only just be meeting, but let me congratulate you on your progress, Oliver. And please, make yourself at home here.”

I blinked. I felt my eyes suddenly itching with the threat of tears and fought my hardest to push them back. I didn’t expect his words to hit me so hard, but I was left stunned for a moment, looking into my glass of juice.

“T-Thank you, Mr. West.” I was embarrassed that my voice came out so weak.

“Dad, you don’t need to psychoanalyze him…” Sarah told him in a half-scolding tone.

Mr. West flinched and laughed it off. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“He certainly didn’t look like an anxious boy to me when he was talking to the kids,” Mrs. West said. “Do you have younger siblings, too?”

“N-No, I don’t,” I said, trying to laugh along. “I have a sister my own age, but I think we were a bit like them at their age, so…”

Now that I thought about it, WHY did I not have trouble talking to children? It’s not like I met a lot of kids, but even before I started changing I don’t remember ever freezing up in front of a child.

I guess… I wasn’t worried about being criticized, shunned or laughed at by them. They weren’t peers I wanted respect and acceptance from, nor adults I needed to approve of me in any way. I’m not trying to be condescending or anything. I simply mean that, without those worries, I could focus on trying to understand them and treat them well, like I would like to be treated if I was in their place.

“H-H-Hey, M-Mister?” Robert’s voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw him holding a soccer ball. His eyes went from me to the floor as he fidgeted nervously. “D-D-Do you want to come play with us?”

See, as nervous as this kid was to talk to a stranger so much older than him, he had me completely dwarfed in bravery. I turned to Mr. and Mrs. West. “Would it be a problem if I did?”

Mrs. West smiled widely. “Not at all. I’ll be done in ten minutes.”

Robert smiled with bright, wide eyes and ran to tell his brother and sister that I’d said yes.

Sarah stood up with me and we went over to the backyard. But before we went out, when we were out of earshot from everyone, she turned to me.

“I really haven’t made any wrong decisions since that night, huh?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Come on.”

She walked out ahead of me, to where her three siblings were eagerly waiting.

************

Chapter 265: Dinner with the West family.

For a moment I simply stood there, watching them. It was a heartwarming sight, a side of Sarah I was seeing for the very first time.

She was running and dribbling the ball with her feet as her three little siblings tried to get it from her. They couldn’t do it. Sarah was too good. She even taunted them, giving them an opening to take it before she lifted the ball and began juggling it with her feet and knees.

“You guys still suck,” she told them while laughing.

“Mister, don’t just stand there! Help us!” Cole told me.

I ran at Sarah, who now had to get a bit more serious. She set the ball on the ground and turned her back to me. Trying to get the ball like that was difficult.

“You’ve never even played soccer, right?” she asked me, keeping me away with her back and her shoulders.

“Nope, but it’s still 4 vs 1,” I told her.

That was when Cole and Violet swooped in at the same time, managing to kick the ball away. Robert ran as fast as he could to get it.

“We did it!” Violet jumped and cheered. “We got the ball from Sarah!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sarah shrugged nonchalantly, but I saw her holding back a smirk. “Let’s see how long you can keep it now.”

Robert passed the ball to Cole with surprising deftness for his age. I almost expected him to stumble or make a bad kick, but no, it was a pretty accurate pass. Cole, too, received the ball with a nice trap, stopping its momentum and passing it to Violet before Sarah was on him. And when she got it, she began to run away from Sarah, laughing all the while.

We played for the ten minutes Mrs. West told us she’d take to get dinner ready. She even called us from the kitchen window. It really reminded me of when mom would call me and Isabelle to eat. It felt kinda nice.

We all washed our hands and went over to the dining room. The table was neatly set and all plates served. Even the look of the food was top notch.

Mr. And Mrs. West sat down at both ends of the table, the three children on one side and Sarah and I at the other. With that, dinner started.

“Mister, you’re really bad at soccer,” Cole told me.

“He’s not bad!” Robert argued. “He’s better than you.”

Cole pouted. “That’s because he’s a grown up!”

“Cole, you’re being rude,” Mr. West told him firmly.

“Apologize to Oliver,” Mrs. West added.

Cole lowered his head. “I’m sorry…”

I chuckled. “Well, it’s true that I’m bad. I don’t play sports at all.”

For a while, we didn’t talk about anything specific, but I did tell Mrs. West that the food was amazing.

“Thank you. It’s very easy to make, you know? Do you cook, Oliver?” she asked.

“Ah. N-No, I don’t. I make breakfast for my mom and my sister every morning, but we always eat takeout for dinner and leftovers from the next day’s lunch.”

Mrs. West frowned. “Really? That’s not good for you.”

“Mom makes us keep a balanced diet, at least,” I clarified. “It’s just… she comes home tired, so…” As I was starting to explain the situation, I suddenly became aware and ashamed of something very obvious. “But… I suppose I could do it. I never tried.”

“You know, I find cooking to be very calming,” she told me, smiling. “It’s also a great way to show people how much you care about them. And on top of that, there’s nothing better than watching someone wolf down a meal you made for them and ask for seconds.” As she said that, I noticed that all her children, Sarah included, had already eaten over half their share. I had, too, without even noticing.

…

Yeah. If mom came home tired from work, why couldn’t I step up and cook us dinner? I had the time, didn’t I?

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of adding cooking to your skillset, Oliver,” Sarah said.

“Hm? I’m thinking about it. Why?”

She grinned. “You’re learning to do everything, huh? Aren’t you also gonna start learning how to drive with Alice?”

Mr. West laughed. “Is that so? Good. This is probably the best time of your life to start learning useful skills. Who knows if you’ll end up in a situation where you have to cook for yourself, right? And knowing how to drive is always useful. Speaking of, what do you have planned for university, Oliver?”

Uh oh. Plans? “I… can’t really say. I only know I’d like to study something music related.”

“Hmm… Performance or theory?”

“Performance, preferably.”

Mr. West nodded. “If so, then look into a Bachelor of Music degree. That’s what a friend of mine did. He told me it's far more focused on practical skills than a degree in arts, for example. There’s also music education, if you’re interested in being a teacher.” He smiled and looked at his younger children. “I get the feeling you’d do well there.”

That… didn’t sound like the best idea. The thought of potentially having such a direct impact in someone’s future was terrifying. But still, his advice was very much appreciated.

“Thank you. I think Bachelor of Music sounds more up my alley.”

Violet giggled. “‘Sounds’ more up his alley.”

That got a laugh out of everyone at the table.

We were finishing up with dinner and Mrs. West was serving us a bit of ice cream for dessert. And as she did, she asked me something very, VERY unexpected.

“Say, Oliver, why don’t you stay the night?”

“Eh?”

“Oh! Yeah! Stay!” Robert said, beaming.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Violet cheered along with her brother. “We can watch movies!”

“No, let’s go to the pool!” Cole said.

“Movies!”

“The pool!”

“Movies!”

“The pool!”

“Um…”

“We have two guest rooms, so it’s no problem,” Mr. West added. “You know we have a sauna and a hot tub, right? Stay and enjoy them. If it’s not a problem for you, of course.”

Sarah turned to me. She tried her best to keep her face neutral, but I could see the pleading in her blue eyes. “...You don’t have to work tomorrow, right? I… don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

Not only visiting Sarah’s house, but staying the night?

…

“I’ll… call my mom and ask her if it’s not a problem.” Mrs. West even asked me to give her my phone so she could talk to mom directly.

I was really staying over at Sarah’s house, then.