Baby Fat

fourteen

Corrie takes a seat on his couch with a content sigh. He's never be so at ease, even if him and Bradley are in a sort of Cold War. He's not even sure what they're fighting about.

He turns on ESPN and eats a handful of buttery, delicious popcorn. He checks his phone, scrolls through Instagram and watches Snapchat stories. Of course, his inner peace never lasts that long.

He still has a choice to make.

Tell his dad about Ophelia or let his dad keep going as he is.

He'll be risking everything by telling his dad, but his dad is risking everything the way he's going. Who the fuck knows what his father is letting her know, letting her have?

Ophelia cheating on his dad is one thing, but Graham cheating on Cassandra is another. He doesn't want to ruin their marriage, but isn't Graham already doing that himself?

Corrie finishes his popcorn and thinks about his choices. He knows what he has to do, the right choice. But he also knows the easy way out.

As everyone has come to discover, Corrie likes easy. But he's not letting his father be ruined over a skank who's obviously after more than his love. So what does he do?

Does he do the right thing or the easy thing? That's always the hardest part of life. What do you do? How do you live your life? What is your choice?

•••

"Dad! Please listen to me!" Corrie yells. His dad takes a long swig of his whiskey before throwing the cup at the living room TV. It crashes and breaks.

"You little lying bitch. You little life ruining bitch!" His dad paces through the living room, eyes red and puffy, hair a wreck.

"You fucking know it. You know I'm not lying! You fucking know!" Corrie shouts furiously. "Stop running from your problems and fucking face them, goddamn it!"

"You little bastard! Stop fucking lying!" His dad pushes the coffee table over, making the vase shatter in to tiny little pieces on the rug.

"Why would I lie about this? Why?" Corrie throws his hands up in exasperation. "I wouldn't and you know that bitch is trying to ruin your life!"

"Why the fuck are you giving me lectures on my choice of lover?" His dad accuses, finger pointed out. "Last I remember you chose a boyfriend who got locked up for killing his own mother!"

"Oh my fucking god! Don't you dare bring him up! You little bitch! You promised you wouldn't bring him up!" Corrie hisses. He walks to the kitchen. He pulls a glass cup out of the upper cabinet and picking up a bottle of vodka off the counter. He empties the bottle and throws it at the walls. It shatters into millions of pieces.

Corrie can hear his dad's footsteps behind him. Corrie drinks his vodka and looks out the window over the sink. He leans on the sink with one arm, the other holding his cup.

"Get out." His dad's stern voice says behind him. Corrie smiles, before taking the last swig of his vodka. He turns around laughing, hands clapping.

"Wonderful, we're having this goddamn fight again." He's laughing so hard he can't breathe, his chest is tightening. "God, are you going to kick me out every time one of your little sluts cheats on you and I tell you?"

"One of my sluts? Really? If there are any sluts in this house it's you, for God sake."

"Oh c'mon, you can't be a little more original?" Corrie rolls his eyes. "You want me gone, I'm gone. But don't try that shit on me. Not again." Corrie plays with the rim of his cup after picking it back up.