Pure Belleza | ✔️

(17)

"No dinner for me," I told Francesca who was stirring a pot of pasta sauce.

Mom and Dad were perched at a breakfast bar stool. Dad was still in his track pants and blue t shirt that he wore to practice and Mom sat in his lap with her laptop open, her spread sheets across the screen.

There must have been somewhere more comfortable for her to work. But whatever.

"I'm going to Amalia's."

My hair was still a bit damp from the shower and I'd barely dried off before I threw on a black t shirt and a pair of chinos. I snatched my keys up from the hook and waved at the parentals who were watching me.

Dad scratched his stubble and pointed at the corridor. "I swear I just saw Flynn walking upstairs with two bottled waters. That he took from the fridge. You saw that right, babe?"

Mom nodded when he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Yeah he's not here for me," I laughed as Dads brows began to furrow and he straightened up. "He's up there with his girlfriend. Also known as Abby. Also known as your daughter."

Dad narrowed his glare and began to spiel off some crap about how he needed to check on this and that upstairs.

Before he could stand up, Mom braced the countertop and pushed down on his lap so he couldn't move.

Well, he could've moved. He could've picked her up and dropped her with no effort whatsoever. But he didn't.

"Don't even think about it."

"But—"

"She's eighteen Drayton," Mom peered over her shoulder with a no nonsense expression. "Flynn is a good kid and we are not going to disturb her privacy. She's allowed it. Just like we were."

Dad groaned. "I don't want to think about what we were like back then!" He rested his forehead on her back. "Make it stop."

Mom rolled her eyes at her man child but he didn't argue further. It'd been like that from the get go.

Dad had never been one for following rules or procedure, which had landed him in hot water on more than one occasion, so she tells me. But Mom kept him in line, for the most part.

She couldn't filter the crude shit that came out of his mouth, or prevent him from publicly announcing real intimate shit when he did live interviews or chatted with his friends.

But when she put her foot down on something, he listened. Because Mom knows best. That little mantra was one we'd grown up with. Not that we'd always let it sway our choices, but we all respected Mom's opinion.

"Have a nice evening," Mom smiled, wincing a little as Dad continued to bang his head on her back. "Tell Amalia we said hello."

As I left, I considered whether I should pop in and see Max. We still hadn't spoken since he took the blame for the beating that I gave Tanner, which of course, resulted in his expulsion. Dumbass.

I slid into the car and sent him a text message instead to let him know we should talk soon.

Tonight or after school tomorrow. He wouldn't be going back to school with us but I wasn't sure what came next.

Would he even be accepted into a new school with that on his record? The street lamps illuminated the split knuckles on the hand that gripped the steering wheel as I drove down the road.

Was it worth it?

Yeah, of course it was. Max wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't have taken the blame if he didn't want to.