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"At least I'm not a prissy bitch"
I thank John b and wish my friends goodbye as I walk up my drive way and into my overly expensive home.
"Dad I'm home!" I call out and my dad greets me in the foyer.
"Hey sweetheart" he hugs me and I hug back.
Living with my dad is weird, my mom got full custody of us in the divorce because he was an addict.
But somewhere in the last ten years he got sober and became a business man.
About a year before my moms death we started staying the weekend at his house once every few months. So we went from seeing him every few months to living with him.
"So who are we having dinner with tonight exactly?" I ask as we walk to the kitchen together.
"The Cameron's"
Fucking knew it.
"Oh, ok. When are we leaving?" "Around 6 or so" dad replies and I nod. I tell him that I'll be in my room if he needs me then I walk upstairs.
It's really no surprise that we're having dinner with the Cameron's. Everyone in my family was friends with someone from the Cameron's but me.
Ward is dad's best friend, Rose is Amy's best friend and Wheezie is Isla's best friend.
When mom was alive she hated the Cameron's with every ounce of their being. She hated how they just flaunted their money around and acted like they were better then everyone else just because they have someone else mow their lawn.
I didn't have a personal vendetta with the Cameron's but more with kooks in general.
There are so many better things you can do with your riches then playing golf and buying fancy martinis.
But none the less I didn't have a choice in dinner with the Cameron's seeing as dad has let me out of it too many times.
I text the pogue grouch at about my dinner with the Cameron's.
