headphones, michael clifford

- CHAPTER NINE.

━━ Jade Clifford,
August Third. ━━

When my mom clarified the restaurant would be downtown, I didn't think it would be downtown.

"Mom— this place doesn't look very . . healthy?" I said as we pulled up to a very, very run-down restaurant.

"No, no sweetie." my mom said, putting her hand on Patrick's shoulder, who had decided to tag along. "they haven't renovated outside. It's safe, I promise."

That was hard to believe when we walked in and sat down. When mom and Patrick began talking, I spaced out.

I started thinking about how my mom and dad fell in love. They fell in love when my mom was forced to do a publicity stunt with my dad. She was a model, and he was a punk rock guitarist.

They both would rise their fame.

But then my mom took advantage of my dad, making him fall in love, which led to real dating.

And now we are here, with my mom and her 'friend', Patrick.

"So, Jade," Patrick piped up. "What do you do for school?"

I acted politely.

"Oh, I go to a private school," I answered.

"Private school?" He raised an eyebrow, "I don't like that thought very much."

"Oh I'm sorry, Are you my father? No. So deal with it," I answered and watched him get angry.

"Jade!" my mom screamed.

"It's not his say in what I do for school." I whisper-screamed to her.

"Well, about that. It kind of will be." She grabbed Patrick's hand, "We came here to tell you that we're dating."

Oh, fuck no. I blinked at the two, shocked. I cannot believe what I was hearing right now.

"Are you fucking kidding?" I snapped, "First, you fucking broke dad's heart, divorced him, and now you're dating this fucking dude?"

"Language." Patrick butted in.

"Oh put a sock in it, Pat," I said, grabbing my phone and keys.

"Jade, come on, please. Just please try this." my mom begged. She gave me pleading eyes. I groaned and sat back down on the nasty-ass chair.

"Tell me about yourself, Jade." Patrick sipped on his gross ass water.

"Not much to tell," I said. "I'm fifteen, I live with my dad full time. I--"

"I don't like your dad," Patrick spoke up. I narrowed my eyes at him.

I was taken aback. How could you not like my dad?

"I literally don't care," I looked at him. "I don't like you, but we aren't talking about it."

Him and My mom looked taken back. I stood up again, looked at Patrick with a sweet smile, and said. "She's using you."

My mom grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down into the chair, making sure I don't move.

"Listen here, fucking brat," She grabbed my face. "You better learn to be grateful and stop being a fucking brat."

As she said that, our food came. She let go of my face and sat down. I took a close, close look at it. It had hair in it and a dead fly. There was mold on the bread.

"I am not eating this," I laughed dryly. "Are you kidding me?"

Out of nowhere, Patrick stood up and grabbed my wrist, forcing me up with him. I shuddered and my eyes widened, and I felt a sudden sting across my cheek.

He fucking slapped me.