Prologue
"Now, I'm training a modern day Muhammad Ali? Is that who you're becoming now?" Mom hollers behind me as we all enter the living room, throwing my backpack away and slumping myself in the couch. Christopher closes the front door from behind us.
"What are you now, the female version of Anthony Joshua?" I don't respond. "You throw punches now? How could you possibly give your mate a broken nose?" Still, no response. "I'm talking to you, young lady!"
"He shouldn't have pissed me off, period!" I respond.
"Piss you off? Are you even listening to yourself? Audrey, he's your mate for crying out loud!"
"Ew! Don't say it like that. We're in reality, not some fantasy realm. I just share Language class with him. Don't make it so awkward,"
Mom scoffs. "Wow! Just wow, young lady! Look at you, not even a sign of remorse!"
"Fine," I roll my eyes. "When I see him tomorrow, I'm going to say sorry to him, but it won't go without a warning," I shoot her a fake smile. "Good?"
"Right, because you've missed your chances of apologizing to him. You know the glorious miracle that happened after this?"
"Suspension? That's the only punishment Principal Carter can give me." I deadpan.
"No! He did even better. You are expelled!" she says, throwing the letter in her hand to my face. I just shrug.
"Ok." I say, feigning innocence.
"Ok? You've been expelled and all you can say is okay? Your educational life is in jeopardy, and all you can say is okay?"
"What do you want me to do, Amelia?" I get up from the couch. "Cry so they take me back?"
"Audrey," Christopher steps in.
Of course he steps in. He always does-like he's been waiting years to play dad.
"What!" I snap, turning to meet his gaze.
"Don't talk to your mother like that!" he says, pointing his finger at me.
"Okay, who invited you into our conversation? This is a mother-daughter time, and wannabe family members are not included!"
"Mind how you talk to me, Audrey! I'm still older than you and I could be your father-"
"But you're not!" I retort, almost immediately. "That's the thing. You can be my father, but you're not. And don't even think of comparing yourself to being my father. Your standards don't reach my Dad's!"
"Enough!" Mom cuts in. "What in the world has gotten into you, Audrey?"
"We were having a Convo before he decided to snuck in," I defend.
"Okay, you shut up! Christopher is a part of this family, and he can talk like everybody else,"
"Says who?"
"Says me!"
"Then go live with him if you think he's your family. Get out of my house, Amelia!"
"Your house?" Mom chuckles. "This is my house, if you've forgotten-"
"Dad's!" I cut her short. "This is Dad's house. My father's house! You're just a caretaker until I reach 18, remember? I call the shots-"
"You don't put food on the table, I do!"
"Oh really? And you-"
"Enough with the both of you! Audrey, go to your room, now!" Christopher points upstairs.
"Excuse me? You can't tell me what to do in my own house! You ain't even a fiance to be considered. Please," I roll my eyes.
"Alright, I've had enough of your sass series. I won't let you have me disrespected, you hear me? You punched a boy and you've left him a broken nose. We'll all going to his house tonight to apologize to him. Clear?" that's Christopher talking, this time, pointing his finger at me.
"Okay, you can go and have your little apology party but I'm not tagging along, thank you. Your invite is convincing but... I'll pass," I wink.
"Don't test me, young woman," Mom interferes.
"Mom, I'm not gonna apologize for something I did right! I would stop putting blames on me and listen to why I did that, if I were you. Trust me, you might even storm his house and leave him a broken rib,"
"You are unbelievable!"
"Duh!"
"Go to your room and don't think of coming out till it's time for dinner, you get that?" Christopher speaks again.
"You're grounding me, Christopher? Seriously? Christopher, you're grounding me?"
"And here she goes again," Mom mutters, shaking her head.
"How many times have you grounded those little teletubbies of yours, huh?"
"Watch it how you talk about my kids! They're not teletubbies, and, I don't ground them, because they're not violent like you are!" He retorts.
I gasp. "Oh really? You're calling me violent?"
"Enough! Go to your room! Now!" Mom snaps.
A scoff escapes my lips. "This is your problem, Mom! Always quick in jumping to conclusions! Your daughter punches a boy and you're quick in joining everybody else in blaming me for being the bad guy! Fine then, I'm the bad guy, as if I've ever been good in your eyes! Keep being judgemental and move on with that walking puppet you call your boyfriend. I wish you the best of luck in your happy life!"
I grab my backpack and head to my room, intentionally slamming the door shut behind me.
