Through the Dark (Sequel to Taking Chances)

Chapter Thirty-Six: "She's That Girl"

Niall
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I watched Brielle try to convince my mother to let her wash the dishes, desperate to keep the conversation scarce between my father and I.

It didn't take much to tell he wasn't glad that I was home. It was, in fact, the worst idea for me to have come back in his mind. I knew it would be like this when I returned home. I had feared this would happen. But I knew it was important for Brielle to meet them. I knew it was something she wanted. I couldn't let my selfishness and concerns about my father get in the way of that.

Brielle laughed at something my mother had whispered to her. At that same moment, my father cleared his throat and leaned close to me. I could feel the cool, unwelcome air around me. I could practically taste it as I breathed it in.

"I still don't see how someone looked past your whining and ridiculous views on music," he grumbled, hate poisoning every word.

Anger pricked, but I didn't let it show as I replied, "She's different. She doesn't let her judgement get in her way of seeing someone's potential."

He chuckled gruffly. "What potential do you hold, son? Certainly nothing worthy of a girl like that. She must see that if she spends as much time with you as she says."

"She sees more than you ever saw, that much is clear," I grumbled, keeping my gaze on Brielle and my mother. I knew that if I looked at my father, I'd lose my temper and ruin the night.

"There wasn't much to see." He shifted in his seat, just as Greg entered the room. The air was suddenly very thick; I knew what was coming next and I dreaded hearing it. "Your brother had everything to see."

I closed my eyes as I struggled to contain the outburst that wanted so badly to escape. Greg grunted as if in response, saying nothing solid.

"Bobby, would you help me finish up these dishes so Brielle can sit down?" My mother called.

Greg watched as my father stood and walked into the kitchen, leaving us to ourselves. But when he was gone, Greg turned his gaze onto me and smirked.

"So. D'you bang her yet?"

I narrowed my eyes, glaring. "Shut the hell up."

He chuckled, shook his head. He was amused, much to my irritation. He went back to stuffing his mouth as Brielle walked in, wiping her hands off onto her jeans. She smiled at me, glanced at Greg, and then sat down to my left. My arm absentmindedly found its way around her shoulders, her head against my shoulder, and we sat in silence for just a minute.

That is, until Greg had to ruin it by opening his shit mouth.

"You hit it last night, didn't ya?"

Brielle looked up at him, frowning. "What?"

I gritted my teeth, trying desperately to keep my cool. I truly couldn't stand my family. My mother was only partially tolerable, but my father and brother were hard to keep my temper calm around. They were always personal, always rude and inconsiderate. They didn't care if you didn't enjoy the conversation, they wanted whatever they wanted out of you and they didn't care how they got it.

My father didn't want a kid who enjoyed music more than sports. He didn't want someone who seemed childish, who wasn't "manly" enough to make the family proud. He wanted a guy like Greg, the captain of the team, the kid who didn't care as much about school as he did his game performance.

"Why can't you just admit you did it?" Greg prodded her, smirking smugly.

"Why can't you mind your own damn business?" I snapped.