I pulled up the long winding driveway of my house and parked my car in the garage next to my dad's royal blue mustang.
All I wanted to do was curl up in bed and take a much needed snooze. But, as soon as I realized my parents were home already, all traces of sleep vanished. Mum and dad had guests over for supper tonight and I was warned to be home at 8:30, sharp.
I nervously checked my watch.
9:15 p.m.
"Crap," I hissed, as I jumped out of the car. They were going to be livid and I knew that any hope for a peaceful night would be useless.
I half ran to the front door. My hands shook as I tried to push the key into the hole. After a few attempts of trying-and failing- I unlocked the door.
With my heart in my mouth, I cautiously pushed the door open. The moment I entered the house, the spicy scent of our chef's famous curry hit my nostrils. My stomach rumbled in hunger.
I made my way to the dining room. The faint sounds of chatter progressively grew louder with each step forward.
When I reached the door to the dining room, I paused. I breathed in deeply and braced myself for a dinner filled with subtle glares and fake smiles.
I nodded to myself once and pushed the doors open. A polite smile plastered on my face, shoulders back and chin raised, I stepped in. I did my best to avoid looking at my parents.
"I'm so sorry, I lost track of time," I greeted and walked to my seat with a confident stride. I wanted to snort in amusement, in that moment I was anything but confident.
"This is our son, Faa'iq," my dad introduced.
"Faa'iq, these are the Hudson's," he gestured to the family of four surrounding of dining table.
"Nice to meet you," I said, grasping the hand Mr. Hudson put forward.
Before he could reply, mum turned to our guests with an apologetic laugh, "please excuse his manners, young men are always on the move."
"It's fine, dear. Our son, Brody, is the same," Mrs. Hudson waved it off.
Mum sighed, "what can you do, Cecilia? Boys will be boys."
I smiled in response.
"Oh, Faa'iq," Mrs. Hudson began, completely butchered my name. "You must be around Zoey's age," she gestured to the girl sitting directly opposite me.
With a jerky nod, I turned to the plate in front of me.
Mrs. Hudson opened her mouth to carry-on the mostly one-sided conversation, when mum swiftly stepped in and diverted her attention. As nice as the lady was, I breathed a sigh of relief.
The less I opened my mouth, the lesser the chance of screwing up. And in this family there's no room for screw ups.
I dished out some of the delicious chicken curry and rice, licking my lips in anticipation of my favourite food.
YOU ARE READING
Affectation
Teen Fiction"i mess things up. it's what i do. it's who i am. i take things that are perfect and figure out ways to screw them up. i try too hard, worry to much. i'm emotional. i'm complicated. my mind is my own worst enemy. every new thought is just a recipe f...
