My mum and dad were absolutely, positively fuming over the pasta pot incident. Following the unforgivable silent treatment I'd been given, their attitude cooled by dinner. The head was right. It was unlike me, but after all the provoking, I'd had enough of that slimy bitch. Besides, I saw it as doing her a favour.
"Pass the butter, please." I said, and retrieved the butter from my dads grip. Scooping it with my blunt knife, I coated it firmly over my silky jacket potatoes. It liquified due to the heat given off; yellow dripped onto the ceramic plate. "Thank you," I added.
"I still don't understand why you did it though, Al." My dad spoke.
He took a sip of his scolding tea. His mouth was invincible, I swear. The steam flowed upwards from the cup, allowing his cheeks to glow red and his eyes, that were identical to mine, to water.
I sighed. Perhaps I should tell them, or perhaps I should lie. 75% of me wanted to lie, but I didn't. They'd hate me even more, and i'd be the failure child.
"Hey, Mum, remember when you sorta eaves-dropped on my conversation with Rain?" I asked.
"Briefly." She spoke, eyeing my dad cautiously. They exchanged the look, and immediately my heart raced. My phone vibrated underneath me, but respectively, I didn't check it.
"Do you remember her saying about a greasy emo girl?" I asked nervously, then bit down on the soft, creamy potato.
She shook her head.
"Nevermind then," I said weakly. My phone vibrated again. "Excuse me," I said, sliding the device from my back pocket, and holding it at eyes length.
To: Alana James💓 From: Wren💓
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Was she breaking up with me after what happened with Rain? I prayed to God not. I stared blankly at the screen for a few moments, before looking up. Both my parents eyes were on me, and my eyebrow raised, a confused look etching my face.
"You were zoning, it freaked us out." Mum clarified, however the look on her face spoke many words.
They wouldn't settle until they knew the truth, so I told them. I told them about the pasta pot incident and the true events leading up to it; I told them about Rain's party, and Wren. My eyes locked to the remaining potato the whole speech, so when I looked up for the second time, I was greeted with sad smiles.
"You're okay now though, right? No more throwing unnecessary food at people?" My dad asked, with worry swarming in his orbs.
I was surprised I wasn't met with a look of disgust or hatred. Instead, I was greeted with a mutual look of acceptance, and that was enough to get me through the weeks of exam-stress, after schools and counselling ahead. They were worth it though, for the place in sixth form. For the better me.
