❝Maybe there's a whole bunch of impossible people waiting for me out there. Waiting to make me feel that same uncertainty again and again.❞
Allison Romero has never had any luck when it comes to finding love, or maintaining friends...or just about...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
21: CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ONE week down, one more to go.
That is what I say to myself as I assist in scrubbing the dishes with my mother after my father had both shouted at us. My mother is standing beside me and drying the dishes, although from the faraway look in her eyes, it is as if she's not in the room with me.
Once we're done, I grab a Coke can from the fridge and retreat to the comfort of my room. Sabrina is off at college and my father is sound asleep on the couch. These last few days, he has not said much to me other than the cutting remarks he makes every here and there. He's been particularly irritable these days, ever since Sabrina mentioned my 'boyfriend' a few days ago. My father hasn't struck it upon himself to interrogate me about it but I know that he isn't going to let it go just like that.
I drop down on the chair at my desk and go through the worksheet I printed at the library yesterday. I pick up a pen and begin to work through it.
Fifteen minutes pass by and I hear the sound of footsteps approaching my room. When the door opens to reveal my father, I stop writing and look up. It's a hard task containing a sigh as he stumbles in with a scowl on his face.
He lets himself in and looks to my figure perched at the desk. I'm looking at him expectantly with my pen paused in mid-air.
"So." He seats himself down on my bed. The posture of him is stiff, and his eyes are hard. "What's the name of your boyfriend?"
And there it is. I take a deep breath. I knew this was coming. It was just a matter of time when he'd confront me. "Ethan," I say at last as I turn in my chair to face him. I should've just lied about his name but the more lies that pile up the harder it'll be to keep track of them.
"Ethan." My father's voice is flat. "And who gave you the permission to start frolicking around with Aussie boys?"
This leads me to sigh aloud. "I don't need your permission," I declare insolently.
My father's up at his feet. He says, "I want his number and his parents number. I want to talk to him."
Something in me snaps. "Oh, stop acting like you're concerned about me or my wellbeing!" My voice starts to rise and I ball my fists, also getting up from my chair. The colour red paints my vision as I narrow my eyes at my father's tall figure.
He bellows, "You're right, I don't give a crap!" His chest heaves up and down and saliva spits out of his mouth. "I just want to know why the hell you think it's a good idea to date someone when you haven't even been there for a month! The next thing I know, you'll come back knocked up and then it'll be my duty to take care of you!"
