I'm Marrying The Asshole of My School?

We headed down the stairs towards the dining room, Tristan on my back. I was chuckling at all the stuff he’s been doing in school lately, “Your teacher did not do that.”
“She did!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, “She really did feed the lizard fish food.”
I shook my head, smiling, “Your class is crazy.”
“But I love it so much, I don’t wanna leave that class,” He grinned.
“Well if Mom finds out you were failing yourself on purpose, she’ll get mad.”
“I know,” His voice was sullen.
“But look on the bright side, you’ll be having even more fun in your next grade,” I smiled as we rounded to the hallway. “New friends, lots more things to learn, I bet you’ll have a blast.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
I nodded, “I am, especially about this.”
“All right,” He sighed as we walked into the dining room.
I set him down and went through the door that separated the kitchen with the dining room and into the amazing smell of delicious food. “Hey, Mom. Tristan and I made up.”
She looked up from the pot and smiled, wrinkles showing at the corners of her eyes, “Well good, I’m glad to hear it.”
I went to the oak cabinet and pulled out five bowls and than to the draw and grabbed five spoons. Jack was playing airplane with Tristan when I came back in to set the table. Rowen was laughing deep and rumbling from his chest, watching the fiasco. His wavy hair was loose around his face, a black tee shirt and loose blue jeans were what he wore with old scuffed up Converse. When he saw me, he got up and took the bowls and began to put them out, me following so I could place the spoons down. “Did your Dad get angry?”
He shook his head, “No, in fact, he looked grateful that I’m out of the house and in someone else’s care.”
I tsked and rubbed his arm, “Well you’re with a family that cares and is full of fun,” I nodded my head towards Jack who was holding Tristan upside down while Tristan laughed. “Even if it’s kind of on the weird side where you start to think you might have been adopted.” I patted his arm and than finished up setting out the silverware.
Rowen chuckled, “You really think that?”
“Look at my family and don’t deny that I’m allowed to think that,” I scrunched up my nose when he leaned down and kissed it.
“You’re cute,” He wrapped his arm around me and squeezed slightly.
I sighed noisily and wiggled out of his embrace, “You’re crazy.”
“I’m crazy?” He exclaimed, “Who’s the one who goes into super-markets, opens the boxes, licks the icing off poptarts and then puts them back on the shelf?”
I harrumphed, “Well excuse me if I like poptarts. And maybe I don’t want to pay for them.”
He ruffled my hair and put down the last bowl as Mom brought out the pot full of beef stew. I wasn’t particular to beef stew but Mom makes it really good so I put up with it. Anyway, she placed it down in the center of the table and everyone one came and sat down.
Jack leaned over and ladled some soup into Tristan’s bowl first, than Mom’s and mine and Rowen’s, and finally himself. We all thanked him and eating reverted to a comfortable silence. I pushed a piece of potato around when I felt a large warm hand on my thigh. Rowen gave me an “Are you okay?” look and I nodded. For some reason, I couldn’t put my finger on it, I felt like something was wrong, like I forgot about something. I shook it off and ate a piece of carrot.
A knock, followed by Eric bursting through the door, had everyone jump. Rowen and I jumped up and I glared as he came flouncing in, face red with anger, “ISABELLA!”
I held my ground and lifted my chin up, “What do you want Eric?”
“So you just leave me to wander the streets? I went all the way to Verona before I turned around to find you gone!”
I furrowed my eyebrows, “Kind of far, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you be smart enough to realize that I don’t live like an hour away on foot?”
Rowen placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. Eric saw this, “What the fuck, man?”
“Excuse me,” Mom exclaimed, “Watch your language.”
He apologized to Mom and than to Rowen he said, “Why are you with her? She’s my wife!”
“Wife?” Tristan, Jack and Mom exclaimed.
“Whoa,” I said, “Who’s the one who said you’d rather die than be anywhere near me?”
He was silent for a minute and than narrowed his ice cold eyes, “It doesn’t matter, you’re having an affair!”
I raised my eyebrow and Rowen stepped in front of me, getting closer to Eric, challenging him. Mom stood up and walked over to Rowen and Eric, standing in between them, “Both of you are acting like children. I swear you’re worse then Tristan. Rowen calm down and sit down. Eric if you want to stay for dinner, you’re welcome to. But don’t act rude and no cursing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” They both said simultaneously.
“And Isabella,” She said, her hands on her hips, “What’s this about a wife?”
“It’s a school project,” I gave a glaring pointed look towards Eric.
“Ah, okay good,” Jack said, “Otherwise I’d have to break some bones.”
With that, Rowen and I sat down and Eric sat down across from me. Mom went inside the kitchen and brought out a bowl and spoon for him. She went back inside and came back with a big chocolate brownie cake. I raised my eyebrows, “What’s this for?”
She shrugged, “I felt like making a brownie cake, is that a crime?”
I chuckled, “Yes Mom, it is a crime.”
She raised her eyebrows and smiled, “Well I hope the police don’t suddenly decide to do a random brownie cake check.”
Everyone laughed except Eric, who was glaring at Rowen.
I kept a careful eye on Eric the rest of the dinner, all through the salad, and sitting on the couch watching Tristan act out his Peter Pan play. You could cut the tension with a plastic butter knife as I sat between Rowen and Eric. Rowen’s hand was squeezing my knee and Eric had his clasping my wrist. I felt like a toy truck with two little boys fighting over me. Who’d have thought my life would end up like this?
“Eric, you’re hurting me,” I muttered as Tristan jumped around on the couch “flying” back from Neverland. He was waving his arms around and was looking so adorable in his green tights. He hopped off the couch and ran about the living room and stopped in front of Mom; grabbed her and danced her around. I don’t know where dancing falls into Peter Pan, but this is elementary school so who knows? Rowen chuckled, his dimple showing. I smiled up at him and then looked at Eric.
“Well tell Rowen to take his grubby hand off your knee,” He whispered harshly back.
I rolled my eyes, “Get over it.”
His hand tightened around my wrist and I winced, “Seriously, let go.”
The pressure from his hand lightened to a light butterfly touch, his thumb stroking my knuckles, “Sorry.”
I pulled my hand from him, “No you’re not. You’re never sorry because you’re too wrapped up in your own life.”
We were silent once again and so the tension remained around us as we watched Tristan acting out his parts in his play. I swear he couldn’t get any more adorable with his green tights and cute dress thing with the little stick sword and green shoes. I let my head rest against Rowen’s arm. He in turn, put it around me so my head was against his chest. Mom was laughing and giggling as Tristan led her around the first floor of the house. Jack shook his head and yet was smiling. The only person who seemed to not have a good time was Eric. But of course he’s the one that’s all emo and depressed.
Tristan and Mom came back in and Tristan grinned, “The End.”
We all stood and clapped, Tristan beaming even brighter as the cheers continued. “Yeah, Triscuts!”
“Let’s celebrate by having some of that brownie cake,” Jack lifted Tristan up on to his back and trotted into the dining room Mom following. I got up, and turned to the boys, hands on hips, “Listen up; I don’t want any kind of fighting for the rest of the night, you hear me?”
They both nodded and I smiled, not before giving a pointed look at Eric, “Well come on then.”
They followed me into the dining room, grumbling silently at each other. I rolled my eyes and bent down to give Tristan and kiss on the forehead. He grinned, “Didja like it, Izzy?”
“I sure did, buddy,” I ruffled his hair and went to get a piece of the cake for him.

AFTER EVERYONE GOT their piece of cake, the evening dwindled down to a comfortable lull. Mom went was upstairs, reading one of her Harlequin books, Jack was with Tristan in his room playing video games and Eric and Rowen were still sitting in the dining room with me almost falling asleep. They were having a staring/ arm wrestling contest and I was just about to hit my head on the table when Rowen slammed Eric’s hand down and it accidentally landed in the cake. Eric roared, “You did that on purpose!”
Rowen jumped out of his chair when Eric did, “I did not! It’s your own damn fault that you’re weak!”
Eric narrowed his eyes, “Well, how do you like it?”
“Like what?”
“Like this!” Eric grabbed a handful of cake and threw it at Rowen who was whacked in the face.
Shit.
I stood up, “Guys, don’t do it.”
Rowen growled and took a handful of his own and tossed it back hitting Eric’s neck. And so, that’s how it began. The fight that would go down in history to this day. Eric and Rowen fought with cake for a while, getting it on everything.
Even me.
Which I was very pissed about.
Soon it turned to an actual fist fight. Like punching, throwing and kicking kind of fighting; along with strings of curses from both parties. Anytime I tried to get in the middle to stop, one of both of them would just push me out and say “Stay out of it!”
This also coincidentally made me pissed off even more. They were in my house, with my Mom’s permission and here they are, wrestling and punching each other on the living room floor. I heard a sickening crack and Eric yell wordlessly. Rowen stumbled to his feet as Eric did, both bleeding from their noses and a trickle of blood slid down Eric’s chin from his mouth. A big red mark creased the side of Eric’s face and I knew right then that that was going to be a very ugly bruise. He was cradling his arm and I knew that’s the source of the sickening crack. I winced and placed my hand on Rowen’s arm. He shook it off and glared at Eric, “What the fuck is your problem?”
Mom, Jack and Tristan took that opportunity to come downstairs. Mom tied her pink bathrobe close, “What happened? I heard yelling.”
“Ask them,” I pointed to the two people who were bloody and covered in chocolate brownie.
Mom stared around at the mess, horror stricken, “What happened down here?”
Rowen stood up as much as he could and turned to her, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but me and Eric got into a scuff and well…” He trailed off, but added, “We’ll clean it up.”
“You better,” Mom said, still shocked from what she was witnessing, “You’re a good boy Rowen but please don’t do this again. Same goes for you Eric.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Eric muttered, ignoring the pain in his arm, although I could see it in his face.
“What kind of scuff was this?” Mom inquired.
“We were fighting about Izzy,” Rowen said.
“Really?” I raised my eyebrows, “I thought it was about getting Eric’s fist in the cake when you were arm wrestling.”
“Either way, you both need to clean up this mess,” Mom rubbed her temples.
“I’m moving to New Jersey for college.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
Jack chose that time to tell Mom he was transferring when she already had a headache; smart move. Well she looked over at him, and than more temple-rubbing, “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Eric after you’re done cleaning, I suggest you go home.”
“Yes, ma’am,” He nodded.
So Mom, Jack and Tristan trudged upstairs to their respected rooms while I collapsed into a nearby chair and stared at them both, picking pieces of cake off my face, “I am very upset and disappointed in both of you.”
“Izz-”
I held up a hand, “I don’t want to hear it right now Rowen. What you did was very immature and childish. I could expect that from Eric, but not you. I want you both to clean up what you destroyed, including yourselves and than Eric, leave and Rowen, go to bed. I’m gonna stay on this chair and survey your cleaning.”
They nodded and set to work cleaning the chocolate first, scrubbing and washing out all the stains; chocolate and blood alike. I let my chin fall into my palm and watched them. Eric struggling because of his broken arm; my better conscience got me so I went over and helped him pick up a heavy bucket of dirty water and dump it out in the sink.
He looked away, not saying thanks and went back inside to finish cleaning. Ungrateful bastard. I leaned my butt against the counter and sighed, crossing my arms under my chest. Having a “husband” turned out to be harder than expected since I have a boyfriend. And both of them seem to be very jealous and possessive. These three months are gonna go by quite slow.
I sighed heavier, “Great,” and looked up at the ceiling, wondering if I was ever going to make it out of this alive.
I hope so.