On the weekend, Antonio and I decided to work on the biology project that we'd been assigned. Although we'd been partnered together a while back, it had slipped my mind until he'd reminded me a few days ago during lunch. So here I was in front of his grand house, ringing the doorbell on the breezy Saturday afternoon. The door swung open a mere two seconds later.
"Flower," Antonio greeted me with a pleasant grin smothered across his face.
I briefly surveyed his lazy attire before my eyes rested on his face. His black eye, although slightly faded, was still very much present. I couldn't help but grimace, which did not go unnoticed. The smile left his face and he brusquely turned around.
"Come on in," he said in a different, more cold tone.
Anyone else would've overlooked it, but I could see the small shift in his behavior. As I stepped inside, I pried off my jacket and tentatively apologized.
"Sorry for staring," I sheepishly said.
We walked side by side through the front hallway. Meanwhile, he looked down at me and offered a coy grin.
"It's okay. Hard not to."
Unimpressed, I narrowed my hazel eyes. This only provoked a boisterous laugh from him.
"This way," he jerked his head to the right, amusement still plastered on his face.
As I followed Antonio's direction and turned right, I suddenly bumped into a strong chest that had me gasping and stumbling backwards.
I looked up at the person and was surprised to see a middle-aged man. He was undoubtedly Antonio's father—the resemblance was uncanny. The only obvious differences were his faint wrinkles and graying hair.
"Sorry," I apologized for bumping into the man.
He remained tight-lipped and peered at me with contempt. The suit he wore made him look all the more intimidating, and I found myself taking a step back.
"Father," Antonio droned in a surprisingly bitter tone. "What are you doing here?"
I was taken aback by his hostility and shuffled on my feet.
"It's my house," his father replied with a sneer. "In fact, how dare you bring one of your little prostitutes into my home?"
My eyes bulged once I realized he was talking about me. Well that escalated quickly.
"You know good and well she's not a prostitute," Antonio snarled through gritted teeth.
There was a cold stare-off between the father and son, although Antonio's father was slightly shorter, so he had to look up to meet Antonio's piercing eyes.
"Y-Yeah, Mr. Brown, I'm just here so Antonio and I can work on our biology project together," I carefully defended.
There was a moment's silence.
Mr. Brown curled his upper lip at me. "Might as well be a monkey and I still wouldn't notice the difference."
My stomach dropped at the racist insult. Antonio aggressively stepped in front of me... almost as if to shield me from his father.
YOU ARE READING
His Flower [DISCONTINUED]
Teen Fiction❝Admit it, Flower. You just can't stay away from me, can you?❞ ••••• Rose Adams lives a life constantly on the move. Every person, every friendship, every place: it's all been temporary. Though, life shocks her when she moves to a small town and act...