Thalia

Chapter 20: Things Revealed

Chapter 20: Things Revealed

"Do you remember the rules now, Rosie? It's either follow them or be punished again, which you know I always forget about." Yeah, yeah, I know you always forget the rules that you come up with, mom. Chill. It's not like I'm some rebellious child who finds joy in old people's pain when they fall down the steps or something. Which is kind of funny depending on their angle and if they lived or not.

"Yes, mother, I know the rules: Don't back-talk him, don't accuse him, listen to his full sentences and no calling him an old wind-sack full of ignorance and rocks," I say and she nods her head in approval. "Even if that's what he is." A stern constipated look crosses her face.

"Rose."

"Right. Sorry." She turns back around and finishes making her toxic food on the stove. I bet one day she'll accidentally end up cooking some type of drug, flocking my dad to the house with his gang of sissy's. I take a seat at our glass kitchen table and cross my arms over my chest. Stupid family. Either dad shouldn't have had me or he shouldn't have been born because I could easily be avoiding this situation right now if there weren't so many people who need surgery here. Can't they hire some other Neurosurgeon besides my dad who lives across the country? Pretty sure Cora can do it better than him.

Even though I'm officially not grounded, I have yet to see Ryan. Friday he had extended soccer practice which cut into his whole school day, Saturday I was "sick", and today, Sunday, Carl is coming over for dinner once more. Now I have proof that his blasted family doesn't exist or else he would be smart and go visit them instead of spending all of his time with his demented ex-wife and his daughter that he knows hates him worth all of the brussel sprouts in the world. Those things are trifling and if we don't stop their growth soon, they'll spread and children will never know the word fun again.

"Rose can you get the door? It's probably your father." Don't call him my father; my thoughts even choke over the terminology. I get up from my seat and head to the front door and see a silhouette of a bulky man through the closed blinds. Yep, it's Carl. If only I had my stick and banana, this situation would be gone and knocked out--literally.

Regretfully, I open the door and Carl is standing there with a smile on his face and a large shopping bag. Ooh, I knew it! He still has drugs. What else would he be carrying in the bag? I'm telling Zoey's older brother; he's a cop. 

"Hello, Roseline. It's nice to see you. May I come in?" Oh, so you act like everything is fine and that I didn't kick your shin last time you were here? Sure, no matter how much you pretend I'll always see the true you, Carl. Ugh, I hate that name, it sounds so weird if you say it slowly. Caarrll.

A sarcastic smile makes it's way on my face. Remember, Rose: You're doing it for the car. You're doing it for the car. "Come in." Ye old catastrophic solid form.

He squeezes past me and into the kitchen greeting my mom like they have been the best of friends. I know they both feel awkward and are only being civil because she wants me to be positive towards him and vice versa. But it's obviously not going to happen while my two feet are placed upon this ratchet floor, in his presence. It won't even happen when I'm half-flying, uncontrollably.

At the kitchen table, apparently it's okay to take the seat I was previously sitting in. I know he doesn't know I was sitting there but still. . . I'm going to hold it against him because I can.

"Well, Roseline, take a seat." He pats across the table at the chair in front of him and I sit in the one farthest from him and his graying hair. "Or you can sit there." He puts his heads down and eventually looks over at my mother. You little bird food eater! You're really going to tell on me?! That's it.