Royal Pain

Chapter 6: One Night with the Prince

"I told you, Harper, make sure all the shells are off. I can't have the whole soup be ruined with one shrimp shell!" Blake exclaims as he cuts up some shrimp that I've peeled.
"I did take all the shells off!" I claim before looking at the large shell he's waving in my face.
"Ew Blake!" I exclaim and swat it out of his hand and out of my face.
"Harper, honey are you staying for dinner?" Mrs. Christian asks as she walks into the room with a very tired looking Mr. Christian.
"If you don't mind," I glance between the couple.
"Oh Harper honey you're always welcome here," Mrs. Christian smiles at me.

Smiling at both of them I go back to peeling the shells off the shrimp for Blake's chowder. Once both his parents are out of the room Blake grumbles, "My dad wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow night."
"Oh come on Blake it's one night early," I comment.
"Exactly one more treacherous night of him telling me to quit everything I love and do shit with my life like he does," Blake begins to get hot headed and soon he's full on ranting about his father. Blake and Mr. Christian never really had a good relationship, not even when Blake was young. And it doesn't help that Mr. Christian is pushing Blake to quit cooking and get a more stable job or to take over the family business, an insurance company.
"...He thinks that I'm just going to... shit!" Blake exclaims as something begins to sizzle that most definitely is not suppose to be sizzling.

As Blake cools down the vegetables I begin to contemplate giving Celia a ring and letting Blake rant to her about his father. She's always good at listening to that stuff, but when it comes to ranting about fathers I'm not exactly the first person to come to.
"Maybe if you tried to show him that you really love cooking then..." I start but Blake interrupts me.
"Believe me I've tried everything, everything. Even my mom talks to him about that stuff and he always listens to her, but when it comes to his own son, he'll just ignore the shit out of me..." and so he continues.

Pretty soon the chowder is made and we're all awkwardly sitting at the dinner table. Mrs. Christian questions Blake and me about our day at school and how we feel about the first week of school being over.
"Well at least it was only a four day week," Mrs. Christian comments.
"Yeah and that was long enough," Blake grumbles while sipping at his soup and soon another tense silence falls on the table.

"This is amazing honey," Mrs. Christian says to Blake while patting his arm, "Don't you think so dear?" she turns to Mr. Christian and it seems the table itself tenses up.
"Yeah it's alright," he shrugs and I turn to see waves of irritation and anger flooding off of Blake.
"So Mrs. Christian... how was your day at work?"

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"I got a double date with Cayla tonight, you want to third wheel?" Blake grins over at me and I can't help but give him a side glare as we hang out in his extravagant bedroom. I almost immediately deny the offer until I realize I don't want to go home where Daniel probably is. Mostly because I'm petty that way and Celia is gone with her family, giving me absolutely nothing to do.
"Who are you going on a double date with?" I ask and Blake seems taken back by the question for a second.
"Wyatt and Cindy," Blake comments and I nod my head, of course.

"No thanks," I shrug.
"So what are you doing tonight? Sitting at home eating ice cream alone?" Blake taunts and I shrug.
"Sounds like a good night to me," I respond blandly, "Except I'm still mad at Daniel."
"Harper he missed one Thursday..." Blake tries to reason.
"Two actually," I interrupt, "In a row." Blake is silent for a moment and so I am. I don't really know why I'm being so petty with Daniel right now. Maybe it's because ever since my father disappeared Daniel partially filled that large gap in my life. My dad was one of my best friends, anyone with eyes could see that. So once he was gone I clung to anything that was like him in the slightest, Daniel is one of those things, and now I feel like I'm losing him too.