Brawl For Defense ✔

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I sat on the couch as my mother stared me down, tapping her foot against the carpeted floor. She received a call from the principal, letting her know about the change in schedule. I didn't really know why she was mad at me. I got into an advanced class; she shouldn't feel mad. 

I rolled my eyes at her and leaned back comfortably as she continued tapping her foot. "Oh, come on, Mother. Your daughter is a genius, be happy."

"I will be happy when the day comes that I don't receive a single call from your school. You only got into that advanced class because you wouldn't leave the poor teacher alone." She seethed. "So, no. I am not happy that my daughter is a 'genius'."

I was taken aback by her sudden attack, my brows knitting together. Why did she always get so worked up with every little thing? She was already starting to get agitated, and we haven't even spoken for ten minutes. A frown etched on my face as I shook my head in disbelief. 

Did she always had to point out every bad thing?

The answer to my unasked questions came rather quickly, since she decided to keep on talking. "Not to mention that the reason for your suspension was because you couldn't help jumping back to your stupid ex-boyfriend!"

"What do you even mean by that? You know what the real reason was, so don't come to me with that bull crap!" I shot back. "If you want to talk about failures, then you should look at yourself in the mirror."

"Amelia!" She gasped, her face turning red. "How dare you say that?"

"The more I look at you, the more I see why my father cheated on you while you were pregnant with me." I huffed. Her face turned pale, probably not expecting me to tell the harsh truth. "What? Did you think I wouldn't find out about him? About how he got another woman pregnant a few months after he found out about me?"

"How—"

"It doesn't matter how I know this." I sighed. "But you shouldn't look down upon me when you are not perfect yourself."

She stayed silent after this, her eyes slowly brimming with tears. I didn't look at her, the frown still prominent on my face. A few seconds passed by until the front door was opened, and my stepfather walked in. He closed the door behind him and eyed us skeptically. 

Great, even more problems.

"Honey, what's going on here?" he asked my mother, not even looking at her as his eyes stayed on me. I held his stare, certainly not backing down. He put his things down by the table and crossed his arms in a way that was supposed to be intimidating. My mother didn't answer him, just sniffled and sighed. His stare turned hard. "What did you do to your mother this time?"

"It's none of your business." I spat. "Get your drunk-ass out of my way and take a shower. You reek of alcohol."

"Listen here, you," he growled and stepped forward. "I won't take any more disrespectfulness directed toward me or your mother. Either you change your way of acting or face the consequences."

"I'd rather face the consequences than bow my head to an alcoholic asshole like you," I said, glaring at him. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, pulling me up so that I basically stood on my tip toes. My glare didn't falter as he sneered down at me, instead, it turned more challenging.  "What? Are you going to punch me?"

That was all it took for him to throw me across the living room. My back hit the floor quite harshly, making me wince, and I instantly rolled to the side and stood up. I flexed my muscles and stood in a fighting stance, prepared for him. He marched toward me with a raised fist, sending it down toward my side. I used my left arm to block his fist then brought my right knee upward, hitting him in the stomach and making him stumble back.