Where He Stands

Chapter Seven: The Breakfast Club

I hate it when I fight someone.

I most certainly hate it if I was the one who wronged the person.

It has been more than three days and Oliver's still not talking to me. I think he's still angry because of what I said when we were in the restaurant. I can't blame him. I should have controlled my babbling mouth. And because I'm such a coward, I did not say I was sorry, though I really was. That's why I sometimes hate myself. I just don't know how to say 'sorry'. One word, two syllables. Why can't I just say it?

"You're so like Dad," Micahel chuckled as I was talking with him through Skype. It was Saturday morning and he just woke up. He started the video call so I was forced to talk to him before I eat breakfast downstairs. "He also don't know how to say sorry. When he and Mom fought, they just make up after that. Without even saying anything."

I sighed and shook my head wearily. "It was really my fault. I should have not said that. I'm so stupid."

"I'm afraid I don't know where you got your stupidity. Both our parents are smart."

I gave my brother a harsh glare. "Will you please try to make me feel better? I'm really depressed. It's weird looking after him and not talking to him. He doesn't even glance at my direction! It was as if I did not exist! Luke and Chris still talks to me, but it wasn't like before." I sighed again.

Michael raised an eyebrow at me. "Do you like Oliver?"

"What are you talking about, Michael?" I demanded, my tone defensive. "I-I don't like Oliver that way. You know how I feel with bad boys. I just don't like them! Have I told you about Eric Kensington?"

"Yes, that guy that already has a girlfriend," he said in a bored tone. "But if you ever like Oliver in that way, I'm so going to disown you."

"You really hate him that much?" I inquired. 

"I just don't think he'd be good for you. He's a rebel, and he's trouble. I know what he's been through. His father always talks about him. So, yeah, I guess you're right about what you told him. Although you shouldn't have told him because it's not polite."

"You think I don't know that?" I grumbled and ran a hand through my hair. "Why don't I apologize to him today? I can't take the silent treatment anymore! What do you think?"

"I don't know what I think," Michael said honestly. "But, listen, it's already eight in the morning and I have to go to work. Why don't we talk later, hmm? I'll be home early so you should be, too."

"Okay, okay. I'll see you later, big bro."

"Later, li'l sis."

I shut off my laptop and stretched. I took a quick bath, changed into new clothes and proceeded downstairs. Alice was already tapping away in her keyboard. Thalia and Dianna were nowhere to be seen. Martha was watching TV in the living room and she smiled at me when I walked down the stairs. 

“Good morning, Rebecca,” Martha greeted me. She was sitting on the dining room chair and she was reading the newspaper. “I think you have forgotten something last night.”

“Uh, what? I had flushed the toilet after I used it, right?” I had a weird habit of forgetting stuff like that.

She smiled, shaking her head. “It’s not that. You have forgotten to take out the trash last night. It was your turn, remember?”

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry,” I apologized with a smile. “I’ll throw it now, if you like.”

“It’s inside the kitchen. Hurry up, okay? The garbage collectors are going to be here in a few moments.”