The Art of Being a Gentleman

CHAPTER FOUR

David had never been self-conscious of his looks. He'd always had enough girls flirting with him, and a good number of family members (and his mom's single friends) telling him "what a handsome boy" he was. And most of the time, he truly didn't care about his appearance that much.

Except for right now. And it was ridiculous.

He had been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for a solid seven minutes, which was already longer than he ever had before, while trying to talk himself into going to school in the stupid purple dress shirt that Rachael had suggested he wear.

It was dumb.

He was dumb.

But would Alyssa be impressed?

Narrowing his eyes at his reflection, he rolled the sleeves up to his elbow and undid the top two buttons, hoping to make it seem less formal. If Ricky didn't like it, too bad.

After fiddling with it another moment longer, he ran a hand over his face, letting out an animalistic growl, and spun on his heel, slamming the bathroom light off. He was wearing this stupid thing.

He stormed up the stairs and into the kitchen where his parents were sitting at the table eating breakfast. Neither of them acknowledged his presence until he slumped into his seat and started stuffing his face full of chocolate cereal, glaring down at the bowl like it had personally offended him.

"Gina, when did our son grow into one of those corporate junkies?"

David's mom, Gina, giggled the way she always did when his father, Ray, said anything even remotely funny.

"What's going on with your outfit, hun?" she asked sweetly, looking at him over the rim of her coffee cup.

"It's nothing..."

"Hey, don't mumble when you're talking to your mother," his Dad told him sternly.

Holding back an eye roll, knowing that it would only get him in more trouble, he lifted his head and looked straight at his parents. "It's a thing for school," he lied easily, "It's not a big deal."

Although the conversation ended there, David still noticed the judging looks his dad kept throwing him across the table. Ray Potosky had never been a fan of people who worked hard and got paid more than him. Namely, anyone with a steady job. He thought the whole business world was full of greedy, manipulative jerkwads, who made the world worse for "good people like them". And even though David obviously wasn't working a fancy business job, he still felt the tension.

After finishing breakfast, David put his dishes in the sink and grabbed his car keys that hung on a hook by the window, moving towards the door. "Alright, I guess I'll see you—"

"Your sister called."

David froze. "Oh?" When nobody said anything else, he fiddled with the keys on the ring. "Did she um... did she ask for me?"

"Yeah."

He was glad his back was turned so his dad wouldn't see his expression. "How come you didn't tell me?"

"It was a short talk."

"Oh," he glanced down at his sneakers, swallowing hard. "Cool, uh... I'll talk to you later, I guess."

He drove to school in silence.

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