More Smiles than Tears *One Direction AU*

Chapter 1

“Jennifer Rae!!” My father’s voice boomed throughout my house. “Don’t you dare walk away from me like that!”

I simply huffed and locked my bedroom door behind me. My father had been incredibly pissy all day and it’d been getting on my nerves. I mean, Zayn, Niall, Liam, and Harry were all out running different errands and if they were here they’d probably be angry too, but still. My father was stressed out about absolutely nothing. He literally went on a rampage the second I walked into the house.

“Daaaad!” I yelled through my closed door, hoping that my voice would echo through the house just like his did. “You need to chill!”

I heard loud footsteps come up to my door and I felt a shiver down my back. My demand for him to ‘chill’ definitely would not help my case of innocence anytime soon. “Jennifer Rae Anderson.” My father’s voice was sounded low and dangerous. I felt awareness creep through my body as I realized just how dangerous it was. It’s like I was walking on a tightrope, and one step in the wrong direction would send me plummeting to the ground. (With my luck, of course, I’d be dead on the ground in no time.)

I sighed. “What’s got your panties’ in a wad?” Damn. I thought. Those were definitely the wrong words to say. I mentally slapped myself for even having the audacity to say something so stupid.

“Jennifer, if you do not open this door right this second, then I swear to God I’m going to beat your ass for the next five hours.” My father’s threat was incredibly unrealistic, because not only would he not beat me for five hours; I also knew that my other fathers would be home any minute and that they wouldn’t let him do such a thing. Still, my gut twisted in fear and I knew that I’d be unlocking that door within the next two-point-four seconds.

My father’s menacing glare met my now-regretful one as soon as I’d opened the door. “Yes, dear father?” I asked sweetly, hoping to lighten my punishment in some form or another. Unfortunately, my phrase turned out a bit more sarcastic than I’d originally planned.

“I fucking told you to be home right after school, Jennifer!!” He yelled. I flinched. “That doesn’t mean four and a half hours after school ends!” The veins in his neck were popping out and I’d be lying if I said that those features alone didn’t terrify me.

I looked at my feet. “I-I-” I stuttered, racking my brain for any excuse to not be guilty.

“No.” My dad raised his hand to shut me up. “I don’t want your excuses and I don’t want to know what you were doing. I’m going to punish you, then you’re going to do your homework, and once your fathers bring dinner home then you’re going to explain to us all why you were so late.” His voice was teetering on the line of incredibly deathly and incredulously terrifying. I wasn’t sure which option was better, though I had an idea that neither would be very good for my bum.

I sighed and looked him in the eye. It almost hurt to meet his angry eyes, though I knew that he’d be more likely to accept my apology if I was sincere. “Yes sir. I’m sorry, dad.”

He sighed and motioned for me to bend over the bed. “Let’s get to that part later, yeah?” His voice was not-so-sharp, but dripping in dull disappointment. I knew what I had done was wrong, but I was pretty sure that I’d end up repeating the same offense. I was staying after school with the Kevin Messex (aka the hottest and most talented football player of all the footie teams in the Northwest England school system) and, well, I probably would end up getting myself more spankings in the future if I got involved with that boy.

My thoughts were soon cut short by the sound and recognition of my father unbuckling his belt. I knew that he’d be using this implement- coming home late was definitely not a first offence to me- but it still came a bit as a shock. I hated the belt; all of my fathers’ knew that. (Not that one could love a belt when it was used in a form of corporal punishment; but whatever. I hated it.) Usually they stuck with their hands, but more often than not I did something to earn myself the good ‘ole belt. I do remember, however, a particular instance when Liam gave me, like, fifty slaps with a hard-sole slipper for trying to steal forty bucks out of his wallet. The slipper was, of course, a one-time thing (I wasn’t that badly behaved), but I knew that with my stupid behavior I’d get it again sometime in the very near future.