Terri and Jake Chronicles 2.0

Chapter Two

 Chapter Two:

The little bit of coffee I had in my mouth came dribbling out of my mouth and onto my lap. “I’m doing w-what?” 

     Dad glanced at my mom, gesturing for her to continue the conversation. “Honey, we wanted to tell you sooner, but we thought you weren’t ready.”

     “Mom, this isn’t a you-are-adopted talk; this is a you-are-getting-married talk! How is this happening? Aren’t I supposed to be telling you that, not the other way around? I don’t have a boyfriend, so I don’t know how this is supposed to work! How is this happening?”

     I felt that I was going crazy, and it was only a sentence that was making me act like this. ‘You are getting married in seven months.’ 

     Mom answered, “Yes, we know you don’t have a boyfriend, which is good for this situation. This isn’t a usually marriage, it’s an arranged one. You’ve heard of that term before, right?”

     “I’m a senior in high school. Yes, I’ve heard the word arranged before,” I said dryly. 

     She ignored my tone, “We pushed it off until we couldn’t push it off anymore. He’s already turned 18, and your birthday is only in a few more days . . .”

     I made her pause, “Were you thinking about saying this is a birthday gift?”

     “Well . . . ”

     “Mom! This is nowhere near a birthday gift! I can’t get married on my birthday! What kind of a gift is this, anyway? I don’t want to get married! I’m only 17 for crying out loud! I haven’t even figured what I want to do with my life!”

     “Sweetie, calm down,” Dad said, resting a hand on mine. 

     I snatched my hand away. “Don’t tell me to calm down,” I said, grimly.

     “Let us finish. Don’t you want to know why you are getting married?”

     “Because you don’t think I can get a guy on my own? Are you trying to kick me out and push me towards some guy? Do you guys not want me in this house that much? Or is this your way of saying you want me to give birth to your grandchildren in a year or two, huh? Is that what this is? A whole scam for me to get knocked up?”

     “Theresa! Do you honestly think we’d do something like that to you?” Mom yelled, outraged now.

     “I wouldn’t be surprised . . .” I muttered.

     Mom inhaled a sharp gasp. “Go to your room, young lady! I will not have you talk to me like that under our household!”

     “This isn’t mine anymore, remember. I’m being forced out against my will.” I stood up from the table, not caring that the chair fell backwards from my speed at which I got up. I stormed out of the kitchen and back upstairs into my room. I wasn’t too far when I heard the doorbell ring, which made me stop in my tracks. 

     That couldn’t be him, right? No. Not possible. My parents are mean, but not mean enough to not let me know the guy would be here now.

     “Theresa, go get the door, would you?” Mom’s voice changed, lowering a whole octave. 

     When I noticed that, anger overwhelmed me. “No! Because you told me to go to my room like I’m a little girl. And this isn’t my house anymore. I don’t answer other people’s doors. That’s rude.” The stairs weren’t far off, so I continued my walk to my room. I could hear my parents groan and huff.