Blue Sunflowers

I sat at one end of the dinner table with my sister on the other end. My father was sat in front of a terrified Frank, who sat beside Sophie, who sat before my mother, who was perched beside Al.

We’d driven home and introduced them to Al and had so far managed to avoid questions.

Awkward is the understatement of the century.

But awkward is a hell of a lot better than knife-flinging. So is silent and calm and – fuck.
“So,” my dad began, but not before stabbing his once living dinner and staring poor Frank down, “You’re dating my daughter?”

His Adam’s apple (or Eve’s as Gerard and Maddie prefer – because that would be sexist) quivered, “Yes, sir.”

My dad nodded, “No sex.”

The only ones who didn’t choke were my mother and Sophie, “O-of course, sir.”

“Now tell me what the hell is up with your tattoos”, the brow that looked a more masculine version of mine furrowed on his face.

I rolled my eyes, “Oh my god, Dad. Leave him alone.”

He gave me a stern look and did a double take, “When did you get a lip ring?”

I panicked, “Never, of course not.” My sister had practically ripped it off me before I started off to the airport. Yeah, it did take a little bit of my soul with it, but whatever.

I gave my best innocent look that was heavily mocked by everyone and their mother at every possible occasion, but he didn’t fall for it. “Really, so you just have random holes in your face?” he raised an eyebrow, “Is that a thing, now?”

“Oh, just leave her alone, berate her later.” Mother piped in and those were last word spoken for the rest of dinner.
---------------------
I ran away to my room afterwards and dragged Frank with me.

I shut the door behind me and he looked at me, “Babe, you know that with your luck, he’ll barge in and think we’re doing something.”

I rolled my eyes and plopped down on my bed. “Frank”, I groaned rubbing my face with my hands, “Don’t give me that bullshit. I have enough with them.” I kicked off my heels with a vengeance and shook my hair out of the restraints of the bun. I glanced at the mirror on the wall, my dark brown roots were coming in and bangs were getting too long. But I’d deal with that later, right now I had unwanted, theoretical family members in my house.

He laughed and lay down next to me. He looked so handsome in his little get-up; I always had a thing for men in formal wear. He wouldn’t let me tell him that though; he’d blush and tell me to shut up. And his hair was slicked back, so if my parents were scared by “formal Frank”, there’d be hell to pay when they’d see him au natural.

I smiled at reached up to mess with his hair. It was always so soft, no matter how many times he’d dyed it, cut it, or that one time I set it on fire. Or that other time Mikey set it on fire – but that’s a sensitive topic. It was long now, just the way I liked it, just the way it was against school policy, and just the way his mother hated it, but fuck it – we’re teenagers. Aren’t we supposed to rebel or something like that?

Rob a Seven – Eleven and get drunk off our asses?