School Shopping: Part IV
The content in this Chronicle and on this website is intended for adults, 18 years and older
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“I’d really like to go home now,” Mikey said from behind the safety of her hands since they provided an opportunity for her to continue pretending that this wasn’t happening, but unfortunately for her, her father wasn’t willing to do the same.
“Food hasn’t arrived yet,” he pointed out helplessly.
“I’m not hungry,” she said, really wishing that they weren’t here, and they wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the other man sitting across from her.
“Big day,” Uncle Trevor murmured, no doubt shooting her another encouraging smile that was meant to reassure her that everything was okay when they all knew that her life was over.
“Big day,” her father murmured in agreement while the boy that was supposed to be her best friend sat next to her, reading the book he’d apparently had stashed in the van and ignoring her during her time of need.
Then again, maybe that was for the best, she decided as she dropped her hands away with a wince as the bra that her father and Uncle Trevor had spent two hours finding for her continued to dig into her side. She missed her ace bandage, she thought with a sigh as she risked a glance across the table to find her father glaring at the boys sitting in the booth across from their and Uncle Trevor mouthing, “Keep walking, bitch,” to the boy holding Pokémon cards, who’d made the mistake of walking past their table.
“Sorry,” she mumbled with a helpless shrug that drew the boy’s attention and-
“What the hell are you looking at?” her father snapped.
“Pikachu?” the kid said, holding up a card.
“Keep walking,” her father said evenly before returning his glare back to the boys sitting across from them while the little boy shrugged, wiped his nose on the back of his hand and went on his way.
“We really need to go home now,” she stressed only to get ignored.
“We should get a cake,” Uncle Trevor murmured thoughtfully as he glanced around the busy restaurant for their waitress.
“Please don’t do that,” she mumbled weakly only to feel her stomach drop when her father nodded in agreement.
“Maybe we should bring a cake home and have everyone over,” her father suggested, which was seconded by her uncle.
“Oh, god…” she whispered, shooting Sebastian a pleading look only to find him pointedly ignoring her as he continued reading.
Nodding, her father stood up and said, “I’m going to go see if we can get something written on an ice cream cake.”
“Good idea,” Uncle Trevor said, nodding in agreement as he stood up to join him only to pause long enough to reach over and give her head an affectionate pat on the head on a job well done for getting boobs.
“I’m running away,” she said with a nod, because clearly, she had no choice in the matter.
“They’d find you before you reached city limits,” the traitor said, not bothering to look up from his book.
“You know I hate you, right?” she asked, crossing her arms over chest as she shifted lower in her seat, feeling oddly exposed wearing this thing.
“Feeling’s mutual,” he said, turning the page.
“Good,” she muttered, deciding that acting like a six-year-old was the only way to go on this one.
At least, until she came up with a better plan.
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