"I have decided that you no longer need to follow that bus again.""Why?"
"Are you asking me why?"
"No sir. Sorry sir."
I lowered my eyes to my half empty plate of fried rice that I had prepared for us this evening. Dad and I were currently on the dinning table having dinner together. This had become a daily thing, ever since my mother left. Dad had been looking for ways to connect with me for some reason I wasn't still sure of.
But it wasn't that I didn't like spending time with my dad. I did. It was just weird. Before, I'd eat in my room while he watched TV in the living room with his own food. Mum would have finished off her share first, even before the rest of us started eating and then she'd be in her room, working on the next work project.
That's how things had always been. But now, Dad was trying to change it up. It wasn't all too surprising, I had expected and welcomed the changes. And I was trying my very best to get used to them, it was hard, but I was trying.
"There's going to be a dinner on Wednesday with your cousins. Your uncle and I have been planning it for a while, I expect you clean up the house before Wednesday, okay?" I resisted the urge to frown because Dad hated when I complained or grumbled about work. I instead responded with a nod and continued looking at the rice.
Seconds later, I shoved a spoonful into my mouth and chewed slowly. Hoping it would slow down time long enough for me to think of how to escape this dinner. "Do you have a boyfriend?" The question knocked the air out of me and my intense inhalation allowed a rice grain to rush down the wrong channel.
I fell into a fit of coughs and rushed to drink my water while my father howled with laughter. This man acted like a child at time. I glared and coughed at the same time, which I'm sure looked quite similar to someone having an asthma attack. "Is it because I'm asking you about a boyfriend that you want to kill yourself?"
Not once did my father try to help me. He continued to laugh the whole while I used to compose my self and when he stopped laughing, there was a linger of a smile on his lips. Wiping his mouth with a paper napkin and then dropping it onto his plate, my father took a sip of water from his cup and then turned his attention to me.
"So whose the boy?"
I took a huge gulp from my cup of water and cleared my throat. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but there's no boy in my life." I proceeded to shove another spoon of rice into my mouth, while keeping my eyes down. Dad's gaze on me didn't falter for a second, which made my discomfort level rise to a million.
"How's your cousin?" The though of Mercy made me smile. She'd stuck by my side through the ups and downs of my friendship problems, she was more like a sister then a cousin. "She's fine." And like that it hit me. Mercy had planned a movie day with the group this holiday and I was yet to get permission from dad. He was always adamant in spending Christmas with the family, rather than going out and having fun.
I cleared my throat for the umpteenth time today and sat upright. My dad was already digging into his chicken, gracefully taking it apart with a fork and knife like we were in a restaurant. Trust my dad to have dinner like it was with the queen of England. "Daddy."
This attracted my dad's attention pretty quick because I only ever called him daddy when I needed something. "What?" He arched a curious eyebrow at me, not once pausing from his cutting. I pulled out my most innocent smile and twiddled my thumbs for added effect. "Can I go out with Mercy and a couple of our friends on Saturday?"
The room was silent. The only sound was the one from dad's plate, he was quite adamant on finishing soon. I kept my eyes on him waiting for his negative response, so I could tackle him with enough reasons why I should be allowed to go. It's never worked before but I had a good feeling about this one.
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Teen Fiction"I used to think my life was perfect, until I realized that perfection is impossible." _____________________________________________ Kolupo is a Nigerian girl who's not new to Senior Secondary School. Living the perfect, drama free, naive life was a...