The leech (Weekend freewrite)

Dad gave me a wink, like we were pals or something. For a brief moment I considered going over to the table he was seated at, then I realized I wasn't supposed to see him there. I just nodded and hurried over to Sean who was already in line for pizza, grabbed him by the elbow and hurried to the door, ignoring his furious 'what the hell is wrong with you?'.
I didn't let go of him until we were on the other side of the road, in front of the hot dog stand. No need to explain much. Sean knew about Dad and his affairs. The whole neighborhood knew. No one told Mom anything, though, because 'you know she's so frail'.
Mom had been frail for as long as I could remember. She took care of the house, cooked and cleaned and everything, but she did everything in the morning, when there was no one around. As soon as I'd get home from school, she'd retire to the bedroom with a migraine or some bug. Or she'd stare for hours at her laptop, working on her novel. In one of her good days she'd spend hours in the bathroom, doing God knows what women do in there. Then she'd put on a nice dress and wait for Dad to come home from work, all happy and chirpy.

She was standing behind the counter, giving him this root beer-float kind of a smile. I sat down at the table, fiddling with my phone so I wouldn't have to speak to either of them. It was obviously one of her good days. She had on one of her best dresses, the figure-hugging red one, a bit too hugging over the hips although she was always on some sort of diet.
Dad had his phone on the table too and I saw him smiling at the screen, but he somehow caught me staring at him and glared at me. Mom busied herself with a casserole which looked and smelled a bit burnt. She was saying something about a phone call from her sister, but as Dad didn't answer, she sat down dejectedly and we ate in silence.
As a reward for keeping my mouth shut, Dad did not ask about school, so I was spared from having to lie to him again. Actually, I didn't mind lying to him, I'd gotten quite good at it, but I always felt bad I was lying to Mom, too.

I still remembered the time Leslie called me a leech. In a sense my sister was right - I was old enough to show some guts and tell them I'd dropped out of school and since I'd got a job with a gaming start-up I could actually move out. Well, if the app turned a success that is.
I couldn't say why I was stalling. It's not like Dad would care that much. He'd yell a bit, I knew, but in a sense he'd be relieved. He could stop playing good family man without having to hide his busy love life. I was pretty sure they wouldn't last together much after I'd move out. I'd heard him a million times ranting on his duties as a father and doing what's right by me. He rarely mentioned his duties as a husband and, as much as I hated knowing this, he rarely performed those duties. He had this habit of watching some stupid TV show until Mom got bored and went to bed alone.
I felt sorry for her. When I go, he'd probably go to. I didn't know what would happen to her. I knew I was being over-dramatic, but sometimes I imagined her lying on the floor surrounded by empty pill bottles. Too many movies, I guess.
As soon as I was done eating, I excused myself from the table, mumbling something about a school project I had to finish.
Mom gave me a wink, like we were pals or something.

Story written for @mariannewest's freewrite challenge. New prompt every day. Check out her blog.