Perfectly Dysfunctional

“Hi dad, I’m on my way home now. I’m sorry I didn’t call last night,” As much as I didn’t want to be, I did feel a little bad about not calling, but again, it’s not like I could help it.

“Where the hell were you?!”

“I was in hospital, I... I broke my arm,” I lied. I didn’t want him to know I was shot, and I saw Nathan out of the corner of my eye throw me a funny look.

“How the hell did you manage to do that?”

“Someone got a little too excited,” - Another lie – “She fell into me and I fell backwards and landed dodgy. I was knocked out in surgery all night, that’s why I couldn’t phone you, but I’m fine now.”

“How’re you getting home, do you have your car?”

“Nathan is driving me in my car, yes.”

“Nathan? Who is Nathan?”

I rolled me eyes; “No one dad, it doesn’t matter. I trust him, I’m not stupid,” I glared out the windscreen and I saw Nathan smirk out of the corner of my eye. “I’m going home to get changed then we’re going out for lunch before they have to go again, okay?” I hung up and the car was silent again.

“Why didn’t you tell him you were shot?” Nathan asked quietly.

“So he can stress over it? Don’t get me wrong, I hate my dad, but I don’t have it in me to do that to him again. Death isn’t a nice thing to wish upon someone,” I said and I saw him nod in understanding, and appreciated that he seemed to understand about the statement. I used to wish that someone would die, like everyone does at one point, but ever since my gran and mum I’ve never been able to bring myself to wish death on someone. Not even my father.

“I’m guessing you don’t get on well with him,” he said casually.

“Putting it lightly,” I laughed. “I’m really quite glad you know this area. I’m normally really good with memorising where I’ve been but I’m guessing sedatives knock that out of you. By the way, where did Tom go?” I asked, looking behind us.

He laughed, “I guess so. Oh, he went to the venue before going to the pub we’re going to later. I’m gonna drive you back, seeing as you can’t drive or don’t know the way.” He teased and I smiled as we fell into a comfortable silence with the radio playing softly in the background.

“I never knew you could drive,” I said suddenly, “I thought it was only Tom-” I stopped myself, “Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I breathed out a laugh, “That was really quite creepy of me.”

“Well... a little bit,” he laughed loudly though which made me feel a little better; “I passed about a month ago though.”

“Oh, well congratulations for that, then,” I smiled.

“Thanks. I’ll wait outside for you, by the way,” he winked at me and my heart thudded faster.

“Don’t be daft; you can come inside, my dad’s not home. I’ll probably be a while seeing as I can’t get this wet,” I said, pointing to my shoulder and chest which was bandaged and plastered up. I groaned, just realising the challenges I faced. If this had happened back home, Emma would have helped me as much as possible, but now I was doing it single-handedly - literally.

He laughed, “If it wasn’t so inappropriate I’d offer to help you,” he said as he turned right into my street. “Which one is it?” he asked, slowing down considerably and peering through the window.

“It’s that one there,” I said, pointing forward to my left. He pulled up into the driveway and killed the engine, handing me my keys. He got out and I opened the door with my good hand before gathering my bags and throwing my legs out the side.

Nathan grabbed my bags out of my hand and with the other helped me out the car. He closed the door behind me and waited patiently as I picked out the correct key then opened the door. “One thing’s for sure; I don’t like small cars.”

I took offence then smirked. “So you have a big car then?”

He must have caught on to what I was getting at because he grinned, “And you know what they say about guys with big cars?” he winked.

“Yeah; they’re over-compensating for something.” I poked my tongue out and entered the house, not really believing that I was letting Nathan Sykes into my home. Or that I’d just pretty much had a conversation about the size of his... car. Wait until Emma hears that one.

He gasped and followed me in, “I guess I kinda walked into that one, didn’t I?” he laughed and looked around. “This is nice.”

“You kinda did. And thanks, but I think it’s too big,” I laughed and he gave me a look. “Well,” I said, breathless as I tossed my bags to the bottom of the stairs and made my way into the kitchen, “I’m moving out as soon as I can afford to, so it’ll literally just be my dad here, and there’s three bedrooms,” I shrugged. “Just seems a little pointless to me. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure, what you got?” he asked and came round to the fridge to check. “Whoa, health freaks and alcoholics?” he laughed at the strange mixture of smoothies and fruit juice compared to the many alcoholic beverages stored in the fridge. There was one bottle of diet coke that only I drank, so there wasn't much out of it.

“Yup, I’m the health freak,” I said and pulled out a carton of orange juice. “You want coke? I guess I could give up a glass or two this week,” I joked.

“Oh no, I couldn’t take that away from you if you’re so unwilling to give it up,” he winked. “Orange is fine,” he took the carton from me and I closed the fridge and spun around to face him.

“I can’t move my shoulder, that doesn’t mean I can’t pour drinks. That also doesn’t mean I can’t kick your arse,” I stated and moved to the cupboard where the glasses were kept as he laughed. I pulled two out - one after the other - and set them down before picking up the orange and pouring. Nathan took a glass as I put the carton back in the fridge.

“Okay, so, the living room is through there,” I pointed straight through the kitchen wall, past the hall and staircase and through into the living room. He looked to his left; I guess it was pretty easy to notice, as he was sitting at the dining table and there were no doors into here or the living room, just huge archways. He nodded then looked back at me. “The TV’s in there... The remote should be beside the TV. You can hook the X-Box up if you want... Uh, you can look around the house if you really want to,” I laughed as he looked uneasy.

“I’d rather not, probably not the best impression to set for your dad if he comes home to find me sitting snooping around his living room.”

“Good point... Well, if you’d rather, I’ve got a TV in my room, although I’m pretty sure my dad won’t be home for hours,” I finished my juice and put the glass in the sink. “It’s up to you. I’m going to shower.”