The Heartbreaking Agreement

Chapter V

After every game my dad and I would go to Burger King, eat big cheeseburger together and drink those too sugary sodas. If I won, Dad would buy me extra fries to my half of the burger. If he won, I would have to help him and Grandpa with the car.

Dad and Grandpa were obsessed with their old Mitsubishi Lancer. Cars never were my thing, but because Dad would win for the most part I was forced to help them out, if I liked it or not.

I remember the story that Dad told me so many times, how Grandpa bought the car for only few dollars. The first owner was not intelligent and couldn't do a simple math, even with money. The point of the story wasn't just to tell everyone how amazing Grandpa is, but also to teach me a good life lesson - study math.

Now, I know what you might be thinking. Math is boring, horrible and we don't have to know how to do box-and-whiskers during our everyday life. I'm not a scientific person and I truly hated math in high school, but because I was forced to take that class for 12 years I won't sell my car to a stranger for few bucks. Although, I still don't like math or that stupid story.

Some kid suddenly started to scream and cry, which almost gave me a heart attack. I jumped lightly and turned my head to the table next to ours to see a single mother with two kids. One of them was around 8 years and the one that was crying was not even 3. The mother looked tired and sick of her child's cry. She had her hair in a messy bun, trying to calm down the baby boy, while her older daughter was shaking her arm, trying to show her something that caught her eye.

So annoying.

Loud.

Disrespectful.

I heard Jerome's laugh as he finished his huge Bacon n'Cheese Burger, his finger messy from barbeque sauce. I looked towards him, not understanding what made him laugh. He cleaned his fingers, but on the tip of his nose still had some sauce. I didn't tell him about it. I'm not his babysitter. Besides, I waited long enough for answers.

I started to play with the top of my nails, against the hard table, playing a melody that was playing in the background. After I won, Jerome promised me to tell me everything, but he was hungry and because of that he couldn't focus. I wasn't happy about it, the idea of waiting for something for endless amount of time while watching not your favorite person in the world eat a big burger wasn't a great thing. But I also was hungry, so I agreed to a small dinner.

I was done with my fries and chicken fingers almost 10 minutes ago. I don't know if I was eating too fast or Jerome ate slowly on purpose.

I had enough. I waited for way too long. I needed to know right know what was going on.

"Are you done?" I asked, annoyed.

Jerome nodded, cleaning the corners of his lips with a napkin, still ignoring the sauce on his nose. Can't he feel that?