Alone together

Chapter 3

Megan

I sit here on the couch of MY living room. I repeat, my living room with a clenched jaw, nostrils flaring, balling my fists so hard that my knuckles turn white and my nails practically tearing at the skin of my palms.

The temptation to just walk up to the guy sitting in front of me and slap him so hard that his cheek turns red is so strong.

'Why?' You may ask.

Well, Blake Asshole Johnson sits on the single seater talking animatedly to my parents about who the hell cares what while my parents practically drool over his GREAT pesonality.

Yep, he has managed to make my parents Blake fangirls in like what? 15 minutes?

Oh, the charm mode is on.

Again, 'What is the big deal? Why are you overreacting, woman?!' You may ask.

Well, as part of our project, we were supposed to meet everyday, right? And we made a time table for the same, correct?

Still confused? I see.

Well, a little flashback is all we need.

Today, at school, Blake told me that he will come at his usual time. We were supposed to meet at my house today.

But I told him not to.

Blake, as dumb as he is, got bloody fooled by my lame ass excuse. Which was- my huge group of relatives were coming over and they were really loud people so we won't be able to concentrate on our project.

That was the best I could come up with, okay?

I internally did a happy dance. Small smirk forming on my face.

What? Don't judge me! I am trying to keep my self-respect here.

I also told the freakin' jerk to not come into my street and that I'll meet him at the street corner, so as to save time. I mean, there is no point in coming inside and pick me up, right?

Wrong. The actual reason was that if at all my parents see a guy picking me up, oh the gods save me.

Nope, my parents are not the type that practically lock their daughter inside, beat the hell out of her if she even looks at a guy and tell her to be a nun for her entire life.

They are those kind of parents that if they saw me with ANY guy, the wedding bells would start ringing in their heads immediately.

Once, I fractured my leg and mom had to pick me up from school. As I was slowly dragging myself to the car, Dickhead Drew stopped me and started with his pointless ramble about me being stupid and other stuff I couldn't care less about.

When I was finally able to get rid of him by punching his nose, hard.

I sat in the car, my mom shoots me question, lots of them. "Who was that hotty? When are you marrying him? Did he kiss you? Have you done the deed already? Oh my god! I am so excited!" Cue the fangirling.

I sighed rather loudly, "He was noone mom. I'm never marrying him. No mom, why would I kiss him? And seriously? Ew." I scrunched my nose in disgust.

So, yeah. My mom would obviously invite the guy in for dinner and tell him embarrassing stuff about my childhood and I couldn't stop them.

Oh, and this HAS happened various times, when I was little. I did have friends back then.

I wish that I was exaggerating but alas, I'm not.

I would sit there groaning and sulking saying stuff like, "Come on, Mom!", "Are you serious, Dad?" and "Okay, I'm leaving this place!".

But no, even the gods haven't been able to stop them, who was I? Their daughter? Pfft, as if that matters?