Drama Queen - Jolyne Cujoh 🦋

I Know How Much it Matters to you, I Know That you got Daddy Issues

"Did you have sex with my mom last night?" I was looking at the dashboard of the Rolls, watching the traffic on the highway rolls past as dad drove us to the airport.

He scoffed. "You're so vulgar" The sun was warm as it rose over the horizon. It was crawling towards the sky as the morning hours ticked on.

"Well, she seemed to be awfully passive when I woke up. I thought she'd be more upset to see you." I looked out my window, away from dad. "I know I am."

"We talked." He said simply.

"Yeah, I bet." I huffed. " You must have been really convincing."

Dad exhaled loudly through his nose. "You know, your mom doesn't want you to go to prison, either."

I brought my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees. I looked down at the floor. Nothing was imperfect, no garbage, no dirt, no dust. It was an untouched car, probably barely driven. "Can we stop?"

"The car?"

"Yeah,"

"No, we're on the highway."

"I mean after."

"Why? You need the bathroom?"

"I'm hungry?"

"We'll get something soon."

"Can we get MacDonalds?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It's awful. It tastes like shit, and it's bad for you."

I threw my head back in frustration. "I'm starving!"

"Quit acting like a child, Jolyne." Dad raised his voice. It wasn't quite a yell, but I was getting under his skin. "We're fifteen minutes away from the airport. There's food in the terminal."

I guess I wasn't going to guilt-trip dad to take me to MacDonalds today, but it was only a matter of time before the guilt of not being there for me while I was growing up to eat at him.

As promised, we eventually arrived at the airport. Valet parked the rolls, we went through security, and as promised, dad took me to a Starbucks in the terminal. I ate a big buttery croissant with ham and cheese, and vanilla bean frappuccino. Dad didn't eat, he just drank a mug of black tea. As I ate, I noticed him watching me.

"What?" I muttered.

"Not speak with your mouth full." He replied.

I swallowed before repeating myself.

Dad paused for a minute. "It's a lot of milk, isn't it? And cream, sugar." He looked at the frappuccino.

"So?" I muttered. If I was a bigger girl, his comment probably would have hurt, but as I was, it just got on my nerves. I wasn't about to voice my frustration at the fact he was just drinking unsweetened tea for breakfast.

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a lot."

"What'll happen to me if I eat too much cream and sugar?" I wanted to hear him say it. Japanese people were always so polite, they wouldn't tell you to your face that you're going to get fat.

"You're going to get fat." He responded. I guess I was wrong. Note to self, don't judge someone's character based on national stereotypes. I suppose that was something  I should have known by now.

"And what happens if I get fat?" I smirked. This will get him. What is he going to say? What's so wrong with being fat? When you're 19 like I am, it's fine, it's only when you're old that it's a problem. As predicted this stumped him. I could almost hear the gears ticking in his brain. "Would you love me less if I was fat?"