How to Be Cliche (A Novel)

(18) Hasta Luego, Estúpido!

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My mother had insisted on Gary and Ronny staying for dinner because she was making her famous Sloppy Pepper as she called it, because when I was six years old she had introduced me to the sloppy goodness, turned her back to me for a smidge of a second, and then turned back around to see that I had literally face planted into my plate to get the last pieces of slop.

                  It was that good.

                  So there I was, enjoying the first forkful of mother's famous, mouth watering, slightly spicy sloppy goodness when mother dearest set down her fork, folded her hands together, and with a bright smile asked, "Gary! How long have you and Pepper been "shaking the headboards" as you young people say?"

                  Gary paused mid-bite, his eyes widening.

                  My father choked on his bread.

                  Ronny gave me a look and then slowly and discreetly started to hump the table.

                  "Nobody says that mom and we're not having sex," I muttered, cheeks burning. And not the cheeks that cry for mercy after my 10 mile runs. I'm talking about the cheeks on my face. I, Pepper Ballard, was blushing like a school girl.

                        "I would never have sex with Pepper, she's Pepper," Gary said, quickly shooting me a look when he realized what he had said.

                  I looked down at my food, frowning. She's Pepper? What the hell did that mean?

                  "And what exactly is wrong with my daughter that you wouldn't have sex with her?" Dad's expression was absolutely blank and his eyes were unblinking as if he was seconds away to challenging Gary to a duel."

                  I could see it now. I sat amongst my throne, gazing down at my peasants and my father and true love battling against each other in an arena. BAM. Swords collided. They were evenly matched. Or so I thought when-- BAM! My father had lost. Gary ripped off his golden chest piece, threw it thousands of feet in the air to me, then floated over the crowd like a beautiful angel towards me, his arms outstretched and his delicious abs exposed. He landed before my throne, kneeling and flipping his ancient braid in slow motion that had brushed along the dirt in the arena over his shoulder.

                  "My beautiful Queen," he would say seductively, then stand up and do a pelvic thruster right in front of my face multiple times. "Bear my hundreds of children, or I shall draw angry demonic pictures of you outside your palace!"

                  "Sigh," I would say dreamily and rip off my clothes.

                  I would then leap into his arms and we would float magically across the world to his bedroom where we would make sweet, sweet--"

                  "Peppy what are you doing?" Mom wondered as I dreamily put my hands up towards the ceiling, imagining Gary's naked chest floating me across the ocean.

                  I snapped out of it. "Oh, what?" I laughed nervously. "Just stretching!"

                  Gary and my father kept screaming. Appearing uncomfortable, Ronny coughed into his hand. I couldn't blame him, he was sitting in the middle of Gary and my father who was clutching his knife in his hand like a weapon after all.