"ALL HANDS TO DECK AND BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES! THERE'S A STORM A-COMING!"
"What kind of storm Sir?"
"A storm of feels, ma boy, a storm of feels."
^ You read it and here it is! The long awaited chapter! Also, this is your Christmas present from me, for all of you. So enjoy it, enjoy it well. Don't forget to vote, and comment! Oh, and.... MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Chapter 24: Dinner and Apologies
Sunday was a leftover night: my Dad and I gathered all of the left overs from the past week that was stored in either the fridge or freezer, and put it all together to create something that looked suspiciously like mystery meat, but somehow managed to taste like pasta, pizza, roast or even a casserole, all at the same time.
I dropped a huge armful of containers full of leftovers onto the table as I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. My Dad came in with more containers as I checked my message. It was from Ivy.
I’ll be there in 15 minutes.
Finally I remembered what had been tugging at the back of my mind all afternoon. I had somehow managed to forget that Ivy was coming over for dinner, and we had only made the plans this morning!
“FUCK!”
“What is it!?” Dad asked alarmed.
“Put it back! Put it all back!” I gestured wildly at the containers littering the table.
“What? Why?”
“Ivy’s coming over for dinner!” I shoved all of the containers I had gathered back into the fridge by ramming them in and hoping that nobody opened the fridge anytime soon. Or ever.
“Shit!” Dad was soon panicking too as we searched high and low in the cupboards for something that could at least resemble food. But all we seemed to have was a can of creamed corn and a torn packet of tortillas.
“What are we going to do!? There’s nothing!” I yelled.
“Order Chinese food!” My Dad shouted.
“No! She’s lived in this town her whole life, I’ll think she’ll know if we ordered take out!”
“Well then what are we going to do!?”
“I don’t know!”
I pulled at my hair desperately, she knew my Dad and I struggled a little sometimes, since we were guys who had never really understood the whole living situation. But this was bullshit! How could we not have anything even remotely appetizing!?
“I have an idea!” My Dad declared.
“What is it!?” I asked desperately. We were out of options since it was too late to go to the supermarket, so what did he have up his sleeve?
“We use the pity card!”
“You’re a genius! Go Dad, go!”
As he ran over to our neighbour’s house in bare feet I quickly set up the table neatly, despite my rushed and jerky movements.
Soon Dad came in carrying a large dish of hot roast.
“How the hell did you score that?” I asked, pointing to the food.
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