This chapter is dedicated to Englishtoffee17, who wrote another one of my favourite stories ‘Addicted to Meth’
Chapter 11
RECAP:
I quickly walked Jake to the door and mouthed ‘I’m sorry,’ before pushing him out of the door and closing it quickly behind him.
I quickly stepped back, and retreated up the stairs, but my Dad grabbed my arm.
“Where are you going? And who the hell was that?” he demanded.
I snatched my arm back and glared at him. “He is my friend,” I stated, putting emphasise on the friend. “And I’m going upstairs, I’ve lost my appetite. The pasta’s in the oven, I’m sure you know what to do.”
“Don’t talk to me in that tone, young lady,” he thundered.
But I had already run up the stairs slamming the door in the process.
That had to be the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. I doubted that Jake would even want to look at me again, even just as my friend. And that scared me a lot, because the idea of not being able to talk to him killed me, it literally killed me.
…
For the rest of the evening I stayed locked away in my room. No doubt my Dad was informing my Mum of my 'reckless behaviour'. Then she would go on to explain how she had known something was wrong ever since the phone call. After all ‘a mother’s intuition is never wrong’, she would say. Followed by me lowly imitated her in a high pitched voice. My sisters would then get involved, wanting to know all the gossip. In my family, being involved with a boy that isn’t Dan is breaking news – worthy of all the headlines.
This family was so predictable.
I felt so incredibly humiliated. After all, Jake really was just a friend. But we were going to kiss, weren't we? I was sure that we were. Maybe it was all in my head, my overly obsessed mind conjuring up images.
How was I going to face him after this? What would I even say to him? It seemed inappropriate to simply walk up to him and say, ‘Thanks for saving my dog, and sorry that I invited you in – I didn't know my Dad was going to try and kill you: but hey ho.’ No, I didn't think that would exactly be suitable.
A thudding knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts.
"Yes," I answered unenthusiastically. It had better not be my Dad. That was one awkward conversation I would rather not have.
"It's me," Hannah squealed.
“Oh, great,” I mumbled sarcastically to myself.
I would have rather it be my Dad, I thought bitterly. What had I said about them wanting the gossip? Well, here they were; ready to collect every scrap of information out of me they could.
Why was this happening to me? Was my life this tragic?
As if right on cue, both of my sisters quietly came into my bedroom, with the widest smirks on their faces. ‘Yes Ellie’, I told myself, ‘your life is in fact that tragic.’
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” Stephanie demanded furiously, crossing her arms across her chest.
Hannah simply scoffed, “I can! He is just so hot!” she swooned, throwing her arm over her forehead and falling onto my bed dramatically.
I rolled my eyes and carried on with my doodling. She’d always been a bit of a drama queen. They were being irrational, because honestly nothing had happened, I thought, allowing myself to feel a little sadness at this. And it never would I mentally added, bitterly.
