𝐑 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐍' 𝐒   𝐏 𝐎 𝐕

"Deciphering metabolism in terms of microbiology is basically the small molecules produced by the microorganisms—"

Blanking out the rest of Professor Erikson's explanation, I lean back in my chair. One of many in the lecture theater. The vibration of my phone has me rolling my eyes. The people closest to me and in front of me keep turning their heads or flickering their eyes over to me, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Miles' constant influx of messages is annoying the surrounding people.

Sighing, I take my phone out of my pocket and read the messages coming from the group chat.

Miles: Dude, just let me come!

Me: No.

Miles: Why not???

Isaiah: I can feel you pouting through your messages.

I chuckle at Isaiah's comment, getting a few looks from around me. I clear my throat before dropping my eyes back to my phone.

Me: Why do you want to come so badly, anyway?

Miles: Because barely anyone can boil a damn egg in this house, let alone a full meal. I'm wasting away and your mom's cooking is heaven.

Isaiah: Here's an idea. Learn to cook yourself.

Miles: ...why would I do that?

Me: Answer is still no.

Miles: Why?!

Me: You know why, every time you check out my sister and every time my sister threatens to end my life if I keep bringing you around when she's there...which she will be.

Miles: She secretly loves me.

Me: Keep telling yourself that.

"That's it for today. Don't forget there will be a test at the end of the week on amino acid nomenclature and structure."

Turning my phone off vibrate and onto complete silence at this point, I put it away in time for the professor to wrap up the class. As everyone packs their things away, I throw my bag over my shoulder and exit the theater before heading to the parking lot where my truck sits. Climbing into my truck and putting the key in the ignition, I roll down the window and pull away from the BU campus.

Tapping my fingers against the steering wheel as I turn up the radio, I head towards my family home in Cambridge. Stopping in for family dinners is a once a week must for my mom, since my sister and I both have our own places.

As I drive into the heart of Cambridge, the mixture of historic buildings and the square, along with the more modern skyscrapers, comes into view. Turning away from the main hustle and bustle, I make my way to the outskirts where my childhood home rests, in a classic American neighborhood.

The two-story home comes into view, and I park up next to my sister's car. Stretching my muscles as soon as I'm out, I lock the truck before heading inside the house. The smell of mom's cooking wafts through the house as soon as I step foot in it.

Closing the door behind me, a snort comes from Buster as he lies in his dog bed. His head lifts and in classic bulldog style, he makes no move to get up, but waits until I head over to him.

"Hey, Buster." I run my hand over his rolls as I pet him, and he turns onto his stomach. I spend a few moments with him before heading into the kitchen. My sister sits at the breakfast bar, a glass of wine in her hand still dressed in her work clothes, and my mom wanders around the kitchen preparing dinner. "You can celebrate now, your favorite child is here."

I go around kissing Mom on the cheek before Naomi speaks up. "Please, I was the less fussy baby."

"Least I didn't get arrested at sixteen for underage drinking," I smirk, and Naomi's jaw drops.

"It was one overnight stay in a cell and that was because I was too drunk for them to let me leave," Naomi clarifies, pointing her finger at me.

"Now, now, children. You know I don't have favorites," Mom chuckles, shaking her head as she turns to make the salad. I turn to Naomi and point to myself mouthing 'favorite child'. Naomi grits her teeth before motioning to me that I'm a dead man. A snicker escapes my lips. "I know what you're both doing."

Naomi and I look at each other, eyes wide, confused how Mom always knows what we're doing, even when she's not looking. That's a mystery we will never solve.

"I still don't know how you do that," Naomi grumbles as she sips her wine.

"You raise two kids by yourself, and it becomes a superpower." Mom smirks, pointing a wooden spoon at Naomi. "How are classes going, honey?" she asks me.

"They're going well. Work hasn't piled up yet, so that's a good sign. Then again, we're only a month in." I grab a drink from the fridge.

Mom turns. "And practice? Speaking of, did you not invite Miles, Isaiah and Octavia?"

"Isaiah and Octavia have a date, and I think Naomi would have murdered me if I only invited Miles."

Naomi nods. "Damn right I would."

"Miles is a sweet boy," Mom gushes. "And he's enjoying his youth. Leave him be. I'm sure you're doing the same, Roman."

"We are not having this conversation," I cough uncomfortably as I rub the back of my neck.

"I'm not oblivious, Roman. But if you're uncomfortable, set the table." Mom gestures to the utensils and I don't blink before I grab the utensils, and bolt into the dining room. Naomi and Mom's laughs echo behind me as I do.

"Yeah, I'd also prefer to not hear about my baby brother's conquests," Naomi scrunches her face up in disgust. Mom sets the plates of food down on the table, and we all sit down together to eat.

❈❈❈

After finishing dinner with my family, I head back to the hockey house. Turning off my ignition, I climb out and head inside. With most of the guys out for the night, the place is pretty quiet as I pass through.

Noise from the common room steers my direction that way and I see a few of the team members scattered around with a few girls on their arms; girlfriends or puck bunnies. With Miles, Octavia and Isaiah sitting on the sofa with the guys playing some video game, I head over to them.

"Hey, how was family dinner?" Isaiah questions as I walk into the common room. His arm swung over Octavia's shoulders, who cuddles into his side, while he taps his gaming control. Still able to beat Miles at the game.

"Mom's meatloaf is heaven. Here." I toss him some extra that is wrapped. "You know she likes to take care of you guys."

"Me too?" Miles's head shoots up from the video game he's playing, and I throw him some. "That woman is a goddess."

I scrunch up my nose. "Dude."

"Just stating facts." Miles holds his hands up in defense before I sit down next to him and grab a spare controller.

"Move over, let me beat your asses."

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𝐀 𝐔 𝐓 𝐇 𝐎 𝐑   𝐍 𝐎 𝐓 𝐄

「 Happy Holidays!

Q: What are your celebration plans for Christmas, or the holidays?

Early update for you all again, as tomorrow is Christmas Day I am uploading today instead, as I won't be on my computer tomorrow. This is just an insight into Roman and his family, a shorter chapter than usual but another update on Monday. I hope all my readers have a Merry Christmas and I will see you on Monday for another update. 」