Mythfits

20-Steve

That night, I sit awkwardly on the edge of my seat, picking at my dinner and trying to ignore the silent Death Stare that Grandfather had leveled in my direction. When he had arrived this afternoon, I had done my best to stay out of his sight. This worked- for a time. Unfortunately, mom had called us to dinner and no longer could I pretend like I didn't exist. Now I silently squirm under his gaze, trying not to imagine what he must be thinking. 

Mom looks up from her glass, which she was calmly sipping, to glance between the two of us- me very carefully not looking up and Grandfather staring directly at me, his eyes boring holes in my skull. "Ahem." She coughs, not so subtly, "So Steve, how was your day at school?" I silently thank her for asking such a generic, bland question.

"Good," I start, choosing my words carefully, "I got an A on my English paper." As I keep my eyes trained on Mom, I see Grandfather nod ever so slightly in my peripheral vision. Gradually, as the conversation progresses and I say nothing glaringly wrong, I relax, which proves to be my downfall. Somehow, the topic of Ella, or rather- that werewolf you were having problems with- works its way into the conversation.

When mom asks how 'that little problem' was going, I wince- thanks a lot mom. Crossing my fingers that this wouldn't be interpreted the wrong way, I reply, "It's fine- I gave her the papers she wanted and I think she'll be less bite-my-head-off or turn-me-into-a-mushroom in the future." Yeah, Steve? That was not the best way to present your statement- have you ever heard of keeping your mouth shut? I mentally kick myself.

"Look here." Grandfather says, thumping the table, his low voice chilling my bones, "No grandchild of mine is going to be pushed around by some werewolf. Even a grandchild such as you." He glowers at me, " Werewolves- always picking a fight, never showing the least bit of refinement and self control." He grumbles, distaste evident in his sneer. 

Gee thanks, Grandfather, for that inspiring vote of confidence. Still, a part of me wants to leap to Ella's defense, even though there is no arguing with Grandfather. "She's not a full werewolf." I mutter. Somehow, he hears me.

"What was that?" He asks, his gaze accusing.

Swallowing nervously, I clear my throat, "She's part kitsune. Not a full werewolf." I reply, really wishing I hadn't said anything. At this point, mom has given up on the conversation and leaves to do the dishes from dinner, grabbing the dishes from the table and disappearing into another room as I silently beg her with my eyes to take me with her- anything to escape this conversation I somehow cornered myself into. 

"Boy." Grandfather stares at me, "You're getting pushed around by a mutt?" He asks, his tone disbelieving with a hidden edge of anger. "You have to learn to stand up for yourself! You assert yourself, stand tall, flash a little bit of fang, and that mutt will soon learn her place."

He pauses, assessing me, "Well, with you she'll most likely challenge you, but as long as you stand strong, she'll back off soon enough." Grandfather pauses, considering, "Probably."

Thanks again sir. I think at him, thankful that telepathy was not one of Grandfather's many ability's, or I'd constantly be in even more trouble than normal.

"Yes sir." I nod, trying to edge away from the table, "Thank you." Right in the nick of time, mom calls me into the kitchen to help with the dishes.

Even though I usually hate doing dishes or anything that involves cleaning stuff, tonight I could have hugged her.