13: Family Dinner

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13: Family Dinner

After Jake apologized, we went back inside. He held my hand as we headed upstairs, which I thought was a bit odd. A little while later, Maria knocks on the door. "Your parents are home," she informs me.

I look at her to see if she was joking or not. She gives me a small smile. I scrunch up my nose and say, "Okay."

"They'd like to have dinner with you and Jake," she adds. Now it's Jake I look at, who just shrugs. I turn back to Maria. "Alright. We'll be down when dinner's ready." She nods and leaves, closing the door behind her. I huff and fall back into my bed.

Jake laughs. "It can't be that bad."

I sit back up and give him a look. "It is that bad. Just trust me." I run a hand down my face. "And they think we're dating."

"Then we'll just have to make it look like you're my girlfriend," he states, shrugging. I sigh and walk over to my closet. "What are you doing," Jake questions.

"There's no way I can let my parents see me wearing this." I point at the clothes I'm currently wearing, a t-shirt and shorts.

"Why not? You look fine."

"Not according to my parents." I pull out a skirt and a nice top to match. "Everything has to be perfect." I walk into the bathroom to change and curl my hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We look odd. I'm dressed up and Jake's casual. My mother gives us a fake smile as we come downstairs, holding hands. The smile I return is just as fake as my mother's. My father greets us as we approach.

"Hello, father." My response is terse. It's not that my relationship with my parents is awkward. It's just... Okay, yeah. It's awkward. I learned at a young age how to act around my parents. "I love you" was not a phrase often used in our home. Home. As if this house could be home. Home was not a house full of expensive things and empty relationships.

Dinner was just as awkward as before. Conversation, when it actually occurred, was brief and empty. Time passed slowly before my father cleared his throat. I look at him expectantly.

"So, Emaline. Are you planning anything for your birthday?" I freeze. Birthday. My birthday. Only six days away.

"Umm," I trail off. "Not that I know of." I stare at my plate until an exasperated sigh from my mother catches my attention.

"A young lady does not say 'um,'" she says in an irritated tone. I sit up straighter, murmuring an apology. Gosh, I hate having dinner with my parents.

Before she can say anything else, my father shushes her. She shoots him a look that reminds me of the saying "if looks could kill." Something's going on, but I don't know what. My birthday isn't mentioned again. The remainder of dinner is nothing but silence with the occasional small talk. By the time dinner is done, the sun has set and the stars have come out. Jake grabs my hand and heads out into the backyard. We lay in the grass, watching the sky.

"My parents are the same way, you know," Jake says, breaking the silence.

I stay quiet for a long while before replying. "I hate my parents and I hate the person I'm expected to be. I don't want to be that one snotty girl who has everything she could ever want at the snap of her fingers," I say softly. "I don't deserve everything I have, but that doesn't mean I'm not grateful."

"I never said you were." I can feel Jake watching me, but I keep my eyes trained on the stars above me. He takes my hand, and I know he understands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I lay my head on the table, frustrated. "I already said no."

"Why not," Mark whines. "It'll be a lot of fun."

"Cause I said so," I roll my eyes, picking my head up off the table. "Just because you were invited to some stupid party, does not mean that I was invited, nor do I really want to go."

Mark makes a face. "Who even says 'nor' anymore?" Jake laughs, earning a glare from me. "Oh, come on, Emmy. It'll be fun. And we'll both there. Right, J?"

"Don't call me that," Jake says flatly.

Mark puts his arm around me, ignoring Jake's comment. "Listen, you'll go and hang out. If you aren't having fun by the time an hour's up, we'll leave. Okay?"

I run a hand down my face. "Alright, fine. Fine. I'll go to the stupid party." Mark starts cheering, causing nearly the whole class to look over at our table. I slap my hand over his mouth to shut him up. "But," I continue, "only if you agree to my conditions." I take my hand away from his mouth and look at him expectantly.

"And those would be?" Mark leans forward, his elbows sitting on the table I front of him.

"First, we leave when I say so. If I see you doing anything stupid, we're leaving. And I'd rather not be alone at the party. Deal?" I hold out my hand.

Mark shakes my hand. "Deal," he says, grinning.

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