The Dating Game

Chapter Twenty

Juliet

Like every year, Dad and I spent Thanksgiving with one another.

It was somewhat quiet but we did our usual tradition of laying the glorious food - which Dad had spent nearly all day cooking whilst I baked the cookies for dessert - out on the coffee table. We had our trays and empty plates on our laps, ready to pick anything from the buffet in front of us. First, however, we said grace.

The TV wasn't even on, either. Most of our food got devoured and the remainder just went in the compost heap that the community had started to organise, giving out bins to all of the houses around this part of Stratford - Dad had been one of the members on the council to propose this to make our town a better place for new people to live.

More people living in this town equated to more income.

Justin and I sustained the communication via our phones the entire time. Dad kept asking who was texting me because my phone was on the arm of the sofa next to me. Needlessly, I ignored the bell-chiming with every text so I was deemed rude when it came to eating our Thanksgiving meal.

"Who's texting you, sport? Michelle or Beth?" Dad asked, taking a gulp of a chicken leg.

I shook my head. "Neither of those."

Momentarily struck by amazement, Dad simply gazed at me. He put the chicken leg down onto his crumb-filled plate of vegetables. "It's that boy, isn't it? The one who gave you the books and spent the entire time with you at the fair - he stayed with you when it was that horrendous storm, too," Dad added as an afterthought.

Accompanied by flushing cheeks, I nodded timidly. "Yeah, it's him," I murmured softly. Then the Music mock popped into my head. "We're doing this mock for Music class, Dad," I began, "and we're assigned partners for this one. Justin is my partner-"

Dad's lips twitched up. "His name is Justin?"

With the flush enhancing, I concurred, "Yes, Dad. Justin Bieber."

His lips instantaneously twitched down. "The son of Pattie McMillan? She's not a good woman, but needless, you like her son and that's all that matters. He has a sister. She works in a bookstore downtown. I've been in there a few times. Never met his dad, however; he left them when he was young. I used to see him around town."

"What's his mom like?" I queried, feeling an abrupt urge to unravel every possible enigma about Justin. His private life - home and family - seemed like a hot topic right now. I wanted to get as much as out what Dad was about to declare as I could.

"She prowls the streets all day every day in search for a job," Dad uttered, shuddering slightly. As to waste time, he began cutting up the chicken leg, breaking the succulent meat from the bone. "She came into the council once begging for a job; everyone found the whole ordeal highly amusing so they humoured her, declined the pleas and chucked her out. She doesn't have much luck these days. She's not very employable."

If Justin's mom doesn't have a job that must mean they could be suffering with their shortage of money. Perhaps that was why Jazmyn has a job so she can fund and provide things for the entire family. My stomach churned at the musings of trying to depict his house in my head. It can't be grand or fancy if his mom doesn't have a job.

"I'm sure he's a gentleman, though," Dad proclaimed, concluding his lecture and commencing eating again. Until: "Anyway, you were saying about this mock," he prompted.

I nodded, still provisionally dazed by the declaration of Justin and his family. My mind was elsewhere as my lips began moving accompanied by emitted sound, "It's a practical and theory mock exam. In pairs, we'll create a piece of music and lyrics if we want and then perform. The theory part is assessing our own production so it's a bit like a long evaluation. Then there are questions on actual music knowledge."