The Lovable Jerk (boyxboy)

Chapter 3

Westin

I woke up around eleven feeling thirsty so I went downstairs to drink some water but unfortunately for me as soon as I got the bottle of water from the fridge my dad showed up with that annoying happy smile on his face. I pretended not to notice to him and I headed back to my room but then he spoke up.

"Hello to you too, my dear son, Westin. I'm great by the way." He said sarcastically.

"Hey, dad. I know you're great...you have that smile on your face."

"Don't you want to know why I'm great."

"You are literally like this everyday and no, I don't want to know." I said walking up stairs.

I knew I was not going to make it before he spoke again but I was hoping I would walk far away enough for him to know I was not interested or just to block out the sound. But of course my dad can not read signs of my disinterest because he spoke up again.

"I got you a cashier job at that place I was talking about."

I groaned audibly as I walked back to him. Why was this job thing such a force matter? It was not like we needed this extra cash but dad kept pushing and pushing like there was no money home.

"The one Brad owns?" I asked, remembering our last conversation.

"Actually Ricky owns the place. You have an interview with him today in three hours...he usually doesn't go to the shop because he is the boss and he owns lots of shops but he wanted to see you."

"Why the fuck does he want to see me?" I asked, politely.

"Language. I swear you keep turning into your uncle Noah and dad everyday." He glared at me. "And Ricky wants to see you because today he is actually free... he was always busy and he never really got the chance to meet you. He only saw you once when you were five and back then you only spoke Afrikaans."

Right. I almost forgot I was fluent in Afrikaans. According to dad I was adopted when I was three and I did not spend much time in the orphanage to learn English. Dad told me that my real parents died in a plane crash. He said they were flying back home but something happened to the plane and next thing people died and there were no survivors.

It was not really sad for me. I did not really remember my parents but somehow I remember the language we spoke. Dad and Pa said it took me at least four years to be verbal with them in English, So during that time dad and Pa learned Afrikaans to communicate with me. I barely speak the language anymore but some people say I curse with it when I am drunk. Most of the times I do not remember but I knew I spoke that way when I was angry. Sometimes.

"Okay, I'll go then...but don't get your hopes up, I'm pretty sure I won't get the job." I said heading up stairs.

"Toss that negative attitude in the bin!" What? Most of the time I did not understand dad's way of speaking.

He was just too weird but then again he was my dad. So I would just have to bear with it.

I headed back to my room and texted Callen to meet me at home. Dad did not mind me and Callen hanging out. He always liked Callen. He thought he was a good influence on me, which was weird because Callen was the one who gave me a fake ID so we could buy alcohol when we were sixteen but of course, I would not tell dad that.

Do not worry, We do not use it anymore because we are legally allowed to drink now. Which has been a thrill so far. I took a bath and put on a shirt and some sweatpants when my dad walked in the room without knocking as usual.

"I don't have any work today so I'm heading out with your aunt Sandy...she says hi by the way. I'll be back to prepare dinner at five." Dad said.

"Bye." I said, grabbing my phone and laying on the bed.