Perfectly Imperfect 1

79- You Little Twit

CAL:

The four of us head down the stairs to the dining room. Dad is obliviously oblivious to the glare I’m giving him. How could he be so rude to Kay and Sam?! It just isn’t acceptable.

“It’s okay,” Kayla whispers, squeezing my hand lightly.

 “It is not okay!” I mutter softly. “He shouldn’t be allowed to talk like that to anyone! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all cool, Cal. Don’t worry,” Sam mumbles, shrugging.

I suppose it’s a sort of blessing that dad gave them so much to process. Hopefully they aren’t too offended.

***

“Pass the peas!” Beth orders snarkily.

“Say please,” I hiss across the table.

She stares at me, outraged. I sense all the Thomas’ tense up, ready for the fireworks.

“Shut up and pass her the food, Callum!” Stacy snarls.

Kayla’s hand sneaks its way across my lap, trying to calm me down. I smile at her, trying to reassure her.

“Are you deaf, meat head? Pass me the peas!” Beth repeats, glaring at me.

Pushed to my limit, I throw the napkin off my lap and stand up, the chair scraping noisily across the marble floor.

“You listen to me you little twit, you will say please and you will learn to respect your elders! I have had it with your insolent behavior! Can you imagine the impression you’re leaving on my guests?!” I shout.

“It’s quite alright, son,” Mr T murmurs. I’m vaguely aware of my dad’s eyebrows shooting up from the shock of Mr T calling me ‘son’.

“No, it most definitely is not Mr Thomas! Bethany will learn manners. And if my parents are unwilling to teach her, I will,” I spit acidly.

Bethany’s cheek blaze as she jumps up from her chair, positively livid. She opens her mouth ready to give me the benefit of her wide range of profanities, but before she can. Stacy jumps in.

“Will! How can you let him speak to my daughter like that?!” she screeches.

“Stay out of it Stacy. Cal is at breaking point,” dad whispers softly.

“Stop taking his side! I’m your wife and she’s our daughter! Don’t let him speak to her like that!” she insists, giving me a glower.

“He’s my son, Stacy,” dad mutters dangerously, his eyes flashing. “And he’s right! Bethany needs some education in manners.”

“You’ve heard dad, say you’re sorry for being such a little brat. Then ask nicely for the peas and I’ll pass it to you,” I mutter icily to my sister.

“F*ck you! And your guests! You think I give a damn about your bit*chy girlfriend or her family?! They’re the squatters, living off our charity!” Beth mutters coldly, throwing Kayla a withering look.

Both Ivan and Sean tense, but settle back down when they see the warning glances from their parents. Emma and Kayla merely sit quietly, stunned to silence, while Sam squirms uncomfortably.

Finally losing my self control, I lean across the table and slap Bethany tightly. Her head whips to the side as she stares at me in horror before the tears begin.

Emma has the hugest smile on her face, looking like she just may breakout in song.

Before Beth can retaliate, Stacy launches herself at, pulling her hand back to slap me. Dad grabs onto her hand, the same icy, cold look on his face.

“You will not slap my son,” he snarls softly, leading her out of the room.

Taking the cue, I pull Bethany by her arm, marching her down the hallway, up the stairs and all the way to her room.

“You will sit here quietly. When you’re ready to apologise to me, Kayla and her family, you may come down for dessert,” I snarl, shutting the door in her face.

And to her credit, Beth didn’t even try to disobey me. Hmm, I’m thinking I should have slapped her a long time ago!

I jog back down to the dining room where the silence is deafening. Nobody moves, none of the food has been eaten; they’re all just sitting there, stunned.

Heh, at least I educated them on the true meaning of a dysfunctional family.

I notice Stacy and dad haven’t rejoined us, not that I’m complaining. I’m thinking the further the distance between us, the better for the peace of the household.

“I’m so sorry for that,” I mumble, blushing a little. “I was just so fed up with her.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Kayla whispers.

“Yes, I do. I made all of you uncomfortable. And I’m sorry,” I repeat. “But let’s continue with dinner. Just because my family is being…difficult, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t eat up, right?” I joke.

A strained laughter envelopes the room and within ten minutes, all awkwardness has been forgotten as everyone tucks into the heavenly chocolate cake. Nothing like chocolate to make a family showdown seem like not a big deal!

***

“Cal!” Kayla whines, stepping out of the changing room.

This would be dress number 21. Sam, Kay, Sean, Ivan, Ben and I all skipped school and uni classes so we can get our clothes for the Warwick dance tonight.

“You look lovely baby,” I coo, pulling her into my arms.

She pouts, staring at her reflection in the mirror sourly. “I suppose I could just wear one of my old dresses,” she reasons logically.

“Nope! I told you, it’s my treat! This is the biggest party of the decade! Get a dress you like,” I insist, heading back to the couches.

Kay purses her lips, twirling around a little, showing me a lot of leg. “Love the show baby,” I tease, making her blush as she pulls the skirt of her dress lower. “Do you mind if I just pop over to the Armani store to get a suit? Gigi could help me pick it out. That way you can keep trying dresses,” I suggest.

“Gigi? I don’t think so,” she mutters, scowling before disappearing back into the changing room.

Within moments she comes back out in her jeans and t-shirt. “I’m not letting a bleached bimbo run her skanky hands over my boyfriend!”

Grinning, I kiss her neck lightly making her shiver. “I love it when you’re jealous. It’s so hot!” I whisper huskily, making her blush again.

“Oi! Enough you two!” Sean mutters, fixing me with the evil eye.

Rolling my eyes at her protective brother, I take Kayla’s hand leading her over to the Armani outlet. Poor Gigi has no idea what’s coming for her!