Anyone but Marcel

1. Anyone but Marcel

I remember the day clearly. It was an average Friday night, I was set to go out to the club with the girls again, maybe find a hot guy for the night. I was dressed to impress, and just as I began to make my way down the stairs, my new "stepdad" butt in from across the hall.

I use quotes because no matter how hard he tries, he will never be my father. I'm seventeen for god's sake, and he just tries to squeeze into a slot that he could never fill. Picture it as one of those toddler toys where the kids put different shaped blocks in holes. My real dad was a hole of a certain shape, one surely nowhere near the shape of Bryan, although Bryan was still trying to ram himself into there. I was anticipating the day he'd back off and realize that I really would never care for him in the slightest. In the meantime, he acted like an overprotective killjoy and ruined my life at home.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" He sternly interrogated.

"Out," I mumbled sarcastically, ignoring him and slithering past his towering figure.

"Funny, aren't you? It's nearly ten, and that outfit isn't appropriate, regardless of where you're going."

I stood in silence for a moment and raised my eyebrow. "Thanks for the advice. See you later."

I stood with my back to him as i spoke, refusing to look him straight in his annoying face. I made my way down about half of the flight of stairs before he stopped me again.

"It wasn't advice. It was indication that you can't go until you change and tell me where you're going," he carried on.

"I'm going to a cl-"

"Nope. No. No way. You are not going to a club at this hour! You're only seventeen Riley! Stop being ridiculous," he muttered, half to me, half to himself.

This man was really off his rocker.

"You can't tell me what to do," I scoffed, laughing as I did so.

His eyes narrowed and he neared me. "Who said I can't?"

"You're not my dad. I don't have to listen to you, and I won't."

I continued down and out the door as his words dragged on, gradually coming to a soothing stop as I swiftly climbed into my car and drove off. "I beg your pardon, miss? You come back here! Riley Mackay I mean it! You are in big trouble!" Blah blah.

I smirked and shook my head. My mother's taste had downgraded immensely. I zoomed out of the driveway and whipped carelessly around the corner. By the end of the night I'd have forgotten everything anyway.

***

My mum's car pulled up the driveway after her three week long business trip. It was nine o'clock on Sunday night, and I was sure she'd want to go straight to bed. I was wrong. I smiled as she opened the door and called up, "RiBear, come say hi to mummy!"

I knew she was only kidding. My mum was usually pretty chill, never creepy or mushy, and I liked that a lot. The more I analyzed my mum's personality, the more I was bewildered she married such a stick in the mud.

I came down the stairs and hugged her quickly. "How was your trip?"

"Great, but I did miss home. How'd you put up?"

Okay, so maybe my mum knew Bryan and I weren't particularly fond of eachother.

"I put up," I grunted.

Bryan came down and I gagged as he kissed her quickly. She was infected with his weasley disease.

They shared small talk, and I completely blanked out their conversation. I snapped back when I heard something that might concern me.