― sixteen: ex-boyfriends & vomit

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[ CHAPTER 16 : EX-BOYFRIENDS & VOMIT : i bet you're wonderin' how i knew. 'bout your plans to make me blue, with some other guy you knew before. between the two of us guys, you know i loved you more. it took me by surprise i must say, when i found out yesterday.]


          PARKER STANDS BEFORE THE kitchen, she's afraid to walk further inside. She knows her mother well, and the aspect of making a fantastic dinner to impress Parker's new friends, is what the woman will be focused on. And while she can make some mean pancakes, that's about it. It's always a surprise when she cooks: it's either still raw, ridiculously in need of seasonings, or just inedible. Ever since Parker said Cameron was coming over on Saturday, she's made it her mission to make everything perfect. Make it look like their house isn't still under construction and dilapidated, making it look like Rose isn't an alcoholic, and that they're family is surprisingly well put together.

          Her father keeps his distance. Primarily focused on work, and not getting on his wife's nerves or in her way. And Rose, well, as long as she has some sort of alcohol in the morning, afternoon, and night―she's perfectly fine with keep sane. Parker, on the other hand, has been held up in her room, working on homework, and trying her best to comfort Cameron into making sure she doesn't flake out in nervousness. Knowing full well that the girl would want to flake because of her feelings about getting close with people. Even though it'd be a good thing to get closer.

          "Holy," Parker gasps as she takes a step closer into the room.

          On every space of countertop, dishes of food are sat everywhere. Parker can barely guess what they are but she notices a really over-fried basket of fries, and onion rings not to mention a burnt bottom of a pepperoni pizza that sits beside a heavily dressed Caesar salad and mini burgers with too much cheese. "God mom, I think you might be overdoing it. There's no way we can eat all of this."

          Parker's mother looks over her shoulder from her spot at the stove, to look at her daughter who stand mortified in front of the food. "Well, she can take some home to her parents," The woman says, before turning back to the stove. Parker can only shake her head as she takes a seat at the bar―her hands moving to prop up her head. "If you think it's too much, then invite Leo over. We should say thank you, anyways, for all he's done."

          "I'm sure he's busy." Is Parker's answer, but the look of insistence on her mother's face, is enough for her to grab for her phone out of her jacket pocket, and text Leo to see if he can come over for the worst dinner in all of history.

          [ PARKER ]: want 2 come for dinner?

          She crosses her fingers, and the toes tucked away in her socks, in hopes that it'll make Leo not want to come for dinner. Yet, something's telling her, her wish will not becoming true. "You said Cameron has a peanut allergy, correct?" Her mom questions, looking up from a pot she's boiling chicken in.

          Parker nods, watching as her mother takes a pair of tongs, and lifts out a few of the chicken breasts that look pasty white. She nearly gags, is chicken supposed to look like that? Better yet, is boiled chicken even tasty? "That's disgusting." She mutters, as she lifts herself from the bar stool and heads out into the living room.

          Her father sits on the beige couch, his feet a top the glass coffee table, and his eyes focused in on the morning newspaper. "Am I going to have to order takeout?" He questions, not even looking up at his daughter who crashes into the armchair across from the couch. The girl lets out a long, exasperated groan. She's embarrassed by her mother. There's no reason to go out of her way to cook so much food, and there's no reason to cook so much bad food. Hasn't the woman already figured out how awful her cooking is?

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