daddy issues → brad simpson | ✓

16 - daddy issues

CHARLOTTE

I smile at the elderly lady that ordered fries and a milkshake for herself and her husband as I deliver the food to their table. I knew my dad was watching every move as he sipped on another bottle of beer.

You won't be getting paid if you don't start smiling.

"Here you go," I say as I hand them their food and drink. They give me a smile and a thank you before I leave promptly to let them eat. I go back behind the counter and wait for someone new to walk in so I can serve them.

"These jeans are tight," my dad comments as he looks over my legs. "When did you become a fucking slut? Showing off your legs and ass? Just like your mother."

My cheeks flame red out of embarrassment and anger. Why was he always so downgrading to me and my mother? I don't say anything and instead mutter an apology quickly.

"You better be fucking sorry," he says as he leans against the counter next to me, looking me in the eyes. "I told you that I'm not gonna pay you to work here if you're gonna be slutty. I said it last week. You ain't got anyone to impress so why you dressing like this?"

I could tell my dad I had a boyfriend but that would be a lie. My dad would have me killed for lying but he'd also have me killed if I told him I was hooking up with someone casually. Instead I stay quiet.

"You gonna fucking answer me?" He whispers harshly. "I'll make a scene if you want one, your mother ain't here to help you today."

Before I have the chance to speak, a customer walks through the door. I recognise the curls and the face as Brad walks slowly to the front counter, his eyes flicking to my dad.

"Okay, buttercup," my dad's demeanour changes and he stands up with a smile. "Have fun at work, I'll talk to you later, yes?"

"Okay, dad," I give him a faux smile and I'm sure Brad sees straight through it as my dad wanders out to the back. Once I know he's out of earshot, I scowl at Brad. "What are you doing here?"

"I came for some fries and a beer," he orders. "On the house?"

"No," I frown. "That's nine eighty four."

He chuckles and hands me a ten pound note, "keep the change."

I roll my eyes as I tell the cook to get some fries made and heated up as Brad takes a seat on the stool by the counter. I slide him an open beer and he puts it in his mouth.

I couldn't believe he came in here. If my dad even got the slightest hint we were together Brad was a dead man. My dad was overprotect, stupidly so. And he was an alcoholic so he was reckless and didn't think about the consequences.

"A penny for your thoughts?" He asks as I give him the fries. I shake my head. "You look stressed, pretty face. What's wrong?"

"You need to finish up and leave," I tell him. "Before my dad starts to think there's something going on between us."

"Why would he think something's going on between us?" He raises an eyebrow at me. "I'm sitting here innocently eating my fries and drinking my beer."

"Because you're talking to me," I roll my eyes. "And you look at me like. . . like you know me. You know?"

"Not really," he rolls his eyes. "What's so bad about us having a thing? You're not a Christian family are you?"

"No," I hold back a laugh, trying to keep this as serious as I could. "Listen, you have your daddy issues, I have mine, okay? Just finish up and go."

He shoots me a sympathetic look before nodding slowly, "I get it. Can you put these in a box for take out?"

"Sure," I sigh, feeling guilty for kicking him out. I find a cardboard box and line the bottom with grease-proof paper before emptying the fries into it. I hand it back to him. "I'll see you later?"

He nods before slowly turning and walking out. The rest of my shift goes by painfully slowly, consisting of a few rude customers and my dad's degrading comments.

My dad makes me stay behind after work as he locks everything up before he turns to me with a beer in his hand, "I fucking give up with you, do you hear me? You were flirting with that brown haired boy earlier, making yourself look like a proper fucking whore. Just like your mother, flirting with everyone. One more time, Charlotte, and I'll fire you! Blood or not. I don't want a filthy slut workin' in my café. Understood?"

"Y-yes, dad," I was surprised by his outburst and he dismisses me a moment later. By the time I'm on the bus home, I'm wiping away tears.

My dad hated my guts and was looking for any reason to fire his own daughter. Brad probably was pissed at me because I kicked him out the café and I had no one to talk to.

Relief washes over me as I reach my apartment complex, glad to finally be home. I unlock my door and sling my bag on the floor next to my shoes and make my way to the kitchen. Humming a random tune, I look around my cupboards for something to eat.

"You're back, finally," I hear the voice of my best friend and I spin around, alarmed.

I place a hand to my heart, "Jesus, Tiara. You can't ignore my texts for four days and then sneak into my apartment and scare me like that."

"I'm sorry," she says and there was definitely a deeper meaning to it as her eyes start to tear up and I shoot her a sympathetic look and pull her in for a hug. "I've messed up everything with James and I thought I'd lost you as a best friend, too."

"I'm your best friend, forever," I reassure her and rub my hands over her arms soothingly. "I know you lied, though, Tiara. Why'd you lie about people calling you a whore?"

"I was trying to make Brad feel sorry for me and hook up with me," she admits and I inhale deeply. She had a crazy obsession with Brad. "After hooking up with James didn't get me any closer to him, I thought that would work. Clearly not."

"Have you ever thought Brad's seeing someone? That he's not interested in you?" I suggest, also hinting at something to her. "There's so many guys that are head over heels for you and you want some curly haired boy that's showing no interest in you?"

"He's just playing hard to get," she shrugs. "Enough about me! What about you? Have you been getting up to anything recently?"

"Studying for college," I say innocently and she rolls her eyes. I knew what she meant; she meant sexually. She gives me a pointed look and I sigh. "It's none of your business."

"You're my best friend, of course it is," Tiara laughs heartily. "Who is it? Is it more than one guy? Does he make you orgasm?"

My cheeks flush red, "I—well—ugh. It's one guy."

"What about my other questions?" She raises her eyebrows. "Who is it? I wanna know if he's hot otherwise, he's gotta go. I mean, it could be a she. I don't care, anyway—"

"I'm sure the guy wouldn't appreciate me leaking his identity on who he's fucking," I interrupt her.

"It's not like you're fucking Brad Simpson," she laughs at me. "Just tell me."

"It's none of your business," I counter and she sighs, presumably letting it go for now. I turn back around and start looking for some more food to eat.

"I'll find out one way or another, Charlotte. You know that."

edited.