My Bad Boy's Diary

~Twenty~ the boy next door

Finally, my mom called us down to dinner and the butterflies were back, just like that.

To my continued shock and amazement, Dalton was a freaking dream all night.

He was ceaselessly polite and charming and even had Mitch laughing after just a few minutes. He put everyone at the table at ease, except for me.

I was a nervous wreck and could barely eat a thing.

I could see Tabitha batting her eyelashes at Dalton all through dinner and I kicked her under the table a few times when she started asking Dalton inappropriate questions.

"Do you have any tattoos?"

"Yes, several." He smiled at her and I glared at his profile.

I had seen a few of them when he was shirtless in his room the other day; he had a fox curled up on his left shoulder blade and a Nordic sundial on his left pec, right above his heart. His tongue was also pierced, fun fact.

Tabitha giggled in appreciation and that's when she got a kick in the shins from me.

Mitch cleared his throat, possibly more uncomfortable than I was, though George and my mom seemed fairly intrigued by Dalton's tattoos.

"So, Mr. Patricelli," Mitch said, and I braced myself, "tell us about yourself. What are your goals and aspirations?"

"Honey." My mom said coaxingly.

"That is to say, what do you see yourself doing for your career, when you grow up?"

I wanted to crawl under the table and die right then, I really did.

"Dalton likes to work on cars; he's fixed up that old Impala and his Norton motorcycle." I started babbling to Mitch.

Mitch chuckled. "Okay, honey, but I was asking Dalton here."

I blushed and ducked my head, picking absently at my serving of the beef roast. It was delicious, but I had no appetite.

"Well, Brooklyn's very right, I do like working on cars. My dad was a mechanic for a while and he wanted me to open my own shop someday, but that's his dream, not mine."

I looked up at him, caught off guard by this honest answer. I had never heard him speak so openly about anything before.

"Well, what do you want to do then?" Alicia asked him sweetly.

Dalton looked right at me. "I want to be a child therapist." He said quietly.

###

I know it was the worst possible reaction ever, but I snorted loudly on a laugh and spewed milk everywhere out of my nose.

All my family members looked at me like I had just sprouted horns and a tail, but it was Dalton who was the true Devil at the table! How could they not see through his blatant B.S.?

"W-well," my mom stuttered, flustered by my crass reaction, no doubt, "that's wonderful! I-I think that's great, don't you, Brooklyn? You never told me your friend had such noble ambitions!"

I hated being put on the spot; I always used it as an opportunity to make an arse of myself. "We're not friends."

"Brooklyn!" My mamma gasped, appalled by my bad manners.

Dalton laughed warmly, however. "It's okay, Mrs. Martins, I think what she means to say is that we're more than friends. We're dating, after all." He took my hand on top of the table and flashed me an evil grin as my family exchanged wide-eyed glances.