Defile Me

eleven: jealousy

DINNER WAS AWKWARD. SILENT.

A part of me had reason to think that he knew what I was going to say and was just awaiting the inevitable.

I dropped my fork, swallowing a bite of the white rice mixed with a portion of corn. I cleared my throat drawing the attention of my father at the other of the table.

"Is something bothering you, you've been awfully quiet since you've gotten home."

I can just say it. It's no big deal.

I patted my cheeks with the white napkin laid across my lap, my forearms now rested against the satin decor of the table. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"And what's that? You finally are ready to succumb to the graceful life you were given?" A deep chuckle emitted from his lips.

I sighed. "Dad. I'm.. not running for student body president."

His fork dropped — not as mine did with just little force but with accuracy and precision, his silverware landing just along the lining of his glass plate.

His eyes lifted from his phone for the first time for dinner tonight. A half-smile became on his face. An unbeknownst one, one that I hadn't been welcomed with before; his smile was nowhere near embracing.

"You're not what?"

"I'm not—"

His hand rested on the table. "No. I heard you."

Silence maintained. Nothing but the sound of the A.C. filling the empty void in the room.

I scanned the carving on the stencils of the fork with the tip of my finger, "So..."

"What exactly led you to make this decision, hm?"

"Well Dad, you know I wasn't really hellbent on running, it was your idea if anything."

He rose from his chair and 'tidied' up his table before speaking again. "Okay."

"..Okay?"

Okay was the last thing I would think to come out of his mouth. Hell would rise over and he'd throw the biggest tantrum known to mankind.

My father was anything but calm. He'd get pissed if one small thing didn't go his way and this was something that was definitely not going his way, I'd expect a little more bargaining.

He nodded, and for once I had the appetite to eat, the fork came forward to my mouth but before it could reach, he went on. "Have you decided to push yourself towards any other school activities?"

"What?"

"Yeah, you don't expect to just keep yourself unoccupied after not being student body president, do you?"

"Dad—"

"That's exactly what I am; your father. I'm looking out for you. I'm the only one who knows what's best for you, and I'm doing everything in my power to assure you a perfect future."

My face retorted with a twisted face as it dropped down to the sight of my plate that had only been left with a half-full portion of food.

His steps grew closer to me, stopping right beside me. "Look." A hand laid on my shoulder. "All I want is for you to follow in my footsteps, you'll live a desirable life. You and Cole."

I hummed.

"You'll understand soon enough. I'm fine with you not running as long as you get into Cambridge, your life is set."

I nodded, yet I didn't agree. I wanted nothing more but to tell him no, to tell him that I didn't want to follow in his footsteps.

But I didn't.