Don't Do It

S e v e n t e e n

•Dylan's POV•

"Can you pass the salt?" I ask Dean since he's seated close to where the salt shaker is located. Mom's mince meat is nice, but I feel that there's not enough salt. It's lacking a bit of flavour.

Reluctantly, Dean lifts the salt shaker and puts it next to me with a loud thump.

I look at him out of the corner of my eye, clenching my teeth. I sprinkle the salt on my meal before putting down the salt shaker.

He's angry at me because I told him he can't be my fighting partner anymore. I replaced him with Ari, and he flipped when I mentioned she's a better fighter than him. Heck, she's even better than me and I'm the one who trained her.

There's no denying the truth in that.

"Okay, what is going on between you two?" Mom questions, breaking the ice, whilst sitting next to Dad at the dinner table. Her eyes wander from Dean to me repeatedly.

"Nothing." Dean and I say at the same time.

Raising my spoon to my mouth, I swallow a huge amount of rice and mince meat, and chew slowly since I don't want her to ask me anything. It's rude to speak with a mouth full of food, after all.

"Well, the tension in the air says otherwise," Dad mutters to himself but we all hear him loud and clear. He realises this, and coughs dramatically before drinking his juice.

Mom senses that as a sign to gain further clarity. She's wearing a serious expression, her lips in a straight line and her eyes fierce. Her stare is intimidating.

"It's either that or they think we're too stupid to notice." she retorts bluntly. "I think it's the latter."

"Definitely." Dad agrees with her, nodding his head before eating his food.

Are they seriously discussing me and Dean while we're right in front of them?

It's probably their strategy of getting us to open up, since they want us to feel bad for hiding this.

"No more games, boys," Mom says in her scariest voice that screams authority. A cold shiver runs down my spine when I see her face, the you-better-start-talking-or-all-hell-will-break-loose look written all over it.

The last time that face made its appearance was when I threw a house party. It occurred a few months ago when I was home alone.

Her and dad were on a business trip, so I had the entire weekend to myself.

I invited about a hundred people, including Arianna, because our house is very big.

It was a full-out party; I hired a DJ, there was tons of alcohol and party food, and everything else a teenage party needs for it to be awesome.

Since I was anticipating Mom and Dad to come back on Sunday evening, I was more than surprised when they stood at the front door in the midst of it all, holding their briefcases, on a Saturday night.

Turns out the trip was cut short due to the small amount of work they had to cover. It wasn't enough to make them stay over for another day.

When Mom saw random teenagers dancing in her most precious living room, staining her expensive carpet with alcohol, she lost it.

She told the DJ to switch off the music, and started yelling the words, "If you demons don't get off my property, I'll make you!"

Everyone immediately knew that she meant business, and began running out the door for their lives. Some of them even fell on their way there since they were too drunk.