American girl [H.S.]

Chapter 42 - Wrinkly dick

So, let's just review everything...

My asshole dad is back.

My mom is getting a divorce.

My mom is a lesbian.

I'm still in love with Harry.

And Conner has called me multiple times, which I've ignored.

What a time to be alive, am I right?

Now, I have to go to dinner with this mess of a situation. I was so pissed my dad was back. I never talk about him because he hurt me so fucking much. Because of him I have some major abandonment issues and that's why I flip the fuck out every time Harry leaves.

Now he's back and pretending everything is normal like he didn't just leave when things got too hard.

My mom was being naive thinking he had good intentions. A man that would leave his own family for no good reason does not have good intentions. He probably just feels guilty and wants to clear his conscious. Or when he found out my mom married a rich dude he wanted to come back and see if he could get written in the will or some shit.

Either way I do not trust him.

Now I have to deal with Conner wondering where I am. I've been ignoring his calls because I have all this shit to deal with and honestly I don't know how to tell him I flew to another country with Harry and just forgot to mention it.

I know at the very least I should tell him, but too much is going on and I just don't know if I could have that conversation with him.

I mean how am I supposed to tell my boyfriend of six months that I don't want him to meet my family because I don't love him and I'm actually in love with someone else.

I know leading him on is worse, but fuck, he's so perfect and I still don't know why I can't bring myself to love him.

I'm just going to focus on getting through this dinner and we'll deal with all this boy drama later.

"Are you ready?" Harry asks and I turn over to see him looking so fucking hot...as usual.

"What are you dressed up for?" I smile.

"It's dinner. Plus this is your family, I want to look nice."

"Well, trust me. You could dress up as hitler and they'd still like you...but don't dress up as hitler please." I say, patting him on the back and running over to my suitcases.

"What will you be wearing?" He asks, sitting down on the bed while I shuffle through my luggage.

"I don't know. If I wear a dress I won't be able to beat up my father if he says some shit. What am I saying I can beat anyone up in a dress." I say, grabbing a dress and running over to the bathroom to change.