A Coke With You (z.m)

2.

❝Partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier
     St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for
     yoghurt❞

“Where the hell have you been?” Tina hissed.

 I grimaced, knowing this was coming. Tina tended to over-react at times, and normally I’d tell her she was being ridiculous.

But today she actually had a reason to be mad at me, considering it was almost 8:00 and school had ended around three. I should have been back by four.

Tina looked beyond mad. Her petite little figure was rigid and tense, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Her face was a bright tomato red, and her eyes were squinted at me. I gulped. Scary Tina was not a very nice Tina.

Even James, the cool and laid back kid of the house, was looking at me dis-approvingly. Normally James would be on my side, supporting me, but not today. He sat quietly on the couch, watching some old tennis match rerun.

“Tina, I’m sorry—” I started to say, but Tina cut me off.

“You’re sorry? You are about five hours late—”

“Four hours,” James cut in softly, but quickly focused his gaze on the T.V when Tina glared at him.

“And all you have to say is sorry? You are so lucky Mom and Dad aren’t home yet, Alison!” Tina yelled, and I shrunk back.

Shit was real when Tina called me by my full name.

I really was sorry. But Zayn and I hadn’t noticed the sign saying that all buses had been cancelled, and I didn’t know anyone who appreciated art like he did.

It was wrong of me to interact with a stranger, but he didn’t even feel like a stranger anymore. He felt like a friend, someone to talk to and rely on. We had even exchanged phone numbers, so that we could hang out again sometime soon.

I found myself smiling at the thought, which only seemed to infuriate Tina even more.

“And you have the nerve to smile!” She growled, and my smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. I felt so, so guilty. I deserved this.

Tina might be a little overprotective, but she meant well and I should have at least called her that I would be this late.

I didn’t want to bring up Zayn at the moment, because Tina would probably start to rant about how I had no morals and that I wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers. Don’t talk to an angry Tina otherwise she’ll find something to throw at you.

Tina was a master at twisting words, especially since she majored in English.

She continued to yell at me about how we were better than regular ‘Americans’ and that being half Filipino meant having boundaries and rules that might be a little different than other families.

Nothing that I didn’t know already.

“Tina, I’m really sorry, but I think you’re over-reacting—“

That was probably the wrong thing to say at the moment.

“That’s it! Go to your room, otherwise I tell Mom and Dad!” Tina shouted, clearly pissed. I bit my lip, refraining from yelling at her that she wasn’t my mom, and that she should stop acting like it.

I didn’t want to say anything that I would regret later.

So I stomped up the stairs loudly and violently, making sure that the twins heard my frustration. Just because I was the youngest didn’t mean that I was a baby, or that I needed protection.