Hate & Lust

Invites

I get home and everyone's already asleep. Thank god. Hopefully they'll forget I even got here late and leave me the hell alone.
Also, what the hell. Why the fuck would they talk to a total stranger about what I had been going through these past couple months? That's bullshit if I ever heard any.
I go to my room and get some fresh clothes before going to take a shower.
***
I wake up the next morning to sun in my face.
"No." I whine dragging out the o sound and putting a pillow on my face.
"Blaire! Get up! We're going to be late for church!" I hear my mom yell.
I grown and sit up rubbing my eyes.
That's another thing I didn't understand. My parents didn't raise me or my siblings up Christian but they insisted we go to church every Sunday.
I get up and go to my closet and pull out my "church dress."
My church dress is the only dress that is- in my mothers and fathers opinion- the only dress that I own that is appropriate for church so that's the dress that I wear every Sunday.
I have plenty of other dresses that I feel would be fine but my mother would have a heart attack if I were to wear them. She literally came up stairs with me and went through my closet and said that this one particular dress was the only one fit for church.
She offered to take me shopping but honestly I couldn't care less.
The regular Sunday church goers recognized me now because of this dress and I get looks but like I said, I couldn't care less about it.
I go to the bathroom and run a brush through my hair and put it in a low bun and wash my face and put some mascara, blush and then brush my teeth and walk down stairs and put my fancy sandals on and then I'm ushered out of the door and into the car.
"Can we stop and get some coffee?" I ask and my mother shakes her head.
"If you would have gotten up on time maybe we would have time to." She says and I sigh.
"Alright. Fine." I say crossing my arms over my chest.
***
When we get to the church I look outside the window and my jaw drops.
"Why is he here?" I ask myself in my mind as I see Jared.
"Oh look! There's Jared." Mom says and my eyebrows raise.
"I'm happy he could make it. He's such a nice young man." My mom says and I want to throw up.
We park and get out of the car.
As we approach the entrance of the church, my mom yells to Jared and he struts over to us all dressed up in his black dress pants and black button up shirt, a hand tucked into his pocket and his long hair pulled back in a low bun.
"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Morgan, how are you?" He asks shaking my parents hands.
"Well we are just doing just great. We're happy you could make it." My father says with a smile.
I want to throw up. This is not okay.
"Well I take invites very serious sir." Jared says and I want to roll my eyes.
I feel my mothers eyes on me as my father and Jared are speaking and she looks angry.
"Say hello." She mouths and my eyes widen.
"No." I mouth back before heading inside.
***
This was going be extremely slow. It didn't help that the pastor was sick so he sounded terrible, but Jared was sitting right next to me and looking at me for what seemed like every five minutes.
When the service was done I stood up and headed for the car.
I wanted to go home, get ready for work and leave without anyone getting up my ass about something that didn't fucking matter.
Since I don't have the car keys, I do have to wait for my parents and Jared but as soon as the walk up to me and unlock the car I get in and sit up straight. It blows my mind when Jared gets in next to me and my parents are totally fine with it.
"Thank you for inviting me for lunch. That's very kind." Jared says sitting back.
"Of course. Blaire will take you back to Lunar before she goes back to work." My mother says and I gape at her.
"Excuse me?" I ask and Jared looks to me.
"Is there a problem Blaire?" My father asks and I sit back again.
"No. No I don't have a problem." I say forcing a smile and I see my mother smile from ear to ear.
They were doing this on purpose for some reason. I had no idea why they were but I could see through their stupid games.
"Great." My mom says I look out my window.
I hate this. I hate him. And I'm not happy with my parents right now.