Shaking Things Up...

Shaking Things Up...Chapter Ten.

Shaking Things Up...

Chapter Ten.

"What the hell is going on!" My Dad shouts. I gasp. It's like the first time I've heard my dad cuss. Apart from that time when he was in his bedroom with that guy.... Eww! Don't think about that. Making me sick.

I turn around to ask Prescott for some excuse but he isn't there. Fast bastard. I sigh. But this is a good thing, right? Now they don't think I was fooling about with a boy. God forbid.

"Why aren't you wearing a top, Deeson?" My Mother asks. And there she is. The devil in Prada. But really, how good is that movie? When I first saw it the first thing I thought was 'Mom'. But that's so besides the point. The point is that my name's Deeson...I mean, who calls their daughter that? Deeson. It's like writing in red marker on your forehead 'My name's Deeson. Come on, make fun. You know you want to.'

"And why is your window smashed?" Father asks. They're both standing straight, Mom wearing skinny jeans with high heels, Dad in his usual Armani business suite. All my mother needs is a chihuahua and she's a footballers wife. 

"You're back early." I say, standing up and covering myself with the tank top.

They both growl at me and I flinch. Jeez, calm it Janet.

"I um..." I think. If I can pull what I'm about to say off, I will be the best lier on earth. So, here goes.

"I was getting changed, Mom. And then I slipped, fell on the window and it broke. It hurts, ma!" I cry, grabbing at my ankle and hopping about. Mom rushes to my side, bimbo that she is and pats me on the head. I mean, it's not my head that's injured, it's my fucking ankle! 

One down one to go. Dad's always been the sensible one in the family, after me of coarse and if you over look all the affairs that I'm sure my Mom doesn't know about.

"So you're saying that window smashed all on it's own and you fell out of it, in your bra?" He asks, eyebrows raised. Damn, new tactic.

"Yeah, Dad. Maybe we can call in Mom's therapist. You might remember him .What's his face, Henry!" I cry giving him the eyes. Understanding flashes on his face and he gives me one last scowl before plastering a fake worried expression on his face.

"Oh hunny. Come to your father." He says, opening his arms wide.I hop into them, one foot in my hands. His arms squeeze me and he whispers angrily in my ear.

"You better keep that to yourself, young lady." He growls. See, this is how much of a demented family we are.

"I'll let this one slip." He says before pushing me away lightly.

"why don't we bandage this up?" He offers, that fatherly smile still on his face.

And that's how the rest if my night goes. With my Mom fussing over how untidy I've left the house and my father spending the whole time in his new study. Probably sexting some hot guy or something.

_-_-_-_

I wake up and blink away the blurriness in my eyes. It's Saturday today and the girls are coming over, to tell me how the rest of the plan worked out.

I get up and stumble down stairs, looking for my Mom so I can tell her that my friends are coming over. I'm actually worried that she might not like them.

Turns out, there's no need to be worried since I find a note on the fridge.

Morning Hunnie. Your Father and I have been called out on an emergency trip this morning. We should be back in a week or so. There is money in the second drawer and you've got your credit card. Why don't you go shopping. Buy some skirts for a change? Someone should be over soon to fix the window.