How to Be Cliche (A Novel)

(18) Hasta Luego, Estúpido!

                  Mom looked entirely unhappy. "My Peppy is still a virgin?" She then straightened herself. "I mean...good! Your loss, bucko!"

                  Gary backtracked. "Whoa, whoa. I didn't mean to hurt Pepper or offend any of you, I meant to say that she just isn't my type."

                  My mother banged her fist on the table. "Us Ballard's may lack jugs in the chest region but we sure pack a punch in our Netherland and backside region. I'll have you know that I--!"

                  "MOM--!"

                  "My daughter is a prize!" Dad roared, slamming his fist on the table. "She's that extra large prize at the boardwalk that you never win, and when you do, you hold onto that prize and you never strap it to the roof of the car because who knows if it will hold on tight enough, and if she falls off the roof, she's not coming back to you ever again. So you put that prize in your car, and you like that prize! And if you don't like that prize, then no more board walk games for you, jackass!"

                  "Dad," I said less loud and firmly, placing my hand on his. "No caveman. You father. Father no eat Gary."

                  Dad's eyes softened as he looked like me, his hands lightly squeezing mine. "I just don't want you to feel insecure about your imperfections."

                  At that, I frowned. "What imperfections?"

                  "We do lack in the chest area, baby, I was being serious," Mom said. "If we were perfect we wouldn't be able to take off our shirts, put a bag over our heads, and fool people into thinking we're guys."

                  "My boobs aren't that small," I defended, looking to Gary and Ronny. "Right?"

                  Gary's eyes dropped to my chest and he put a hand briefly to his chin, analyzing the problematic area. "They're a decent size...", he replied in that monotonous voice of his, taking out his notebook and clicking his pen.

                  "Hey! Don't draw my boobs, you pervert!" I said, throwing my bread at Gary's face.

                  He slowly put his notepad back onto his lap. "Fine."

                  DAMN, GIVE A BROTHA A BREAK! LOOK AT HIS CLOWN MAKEUP! THE POOR BOY. THE ONLY "P" GARY PROBABLY GETS IS HIS ANIME BODY PILLOW. HE CAN DRAW ME LIKE ONE OF THOSE FRENCH GIRLS ALL HE WANTS.

                  I was so thankful I hadn't said that out loud.

                  Dad stood up from the table, glaring at Gary. "Are you looking at my baby's nonexistent breasts? She's my baby. I cleaned her butt every single day when she was a baby and had the runs. That's dedication. And love. Keep gazing at them, and next time you get horny you'll be staring at your nonexistent pen--"

                  "Dad!" I squeaked.

                  "They're definitely not nonexistent," Gary said to his Sloppy Pepper on his plate. "you should have seen the top she wore yesterday. And I'm not even looking at her, sir, I'm eating."

                  My dad was now ready to pounce."Why aren't you looking at my daughter?"

                  Face reddening, I pushed back my chair and stood up as well. "Gary! You're digging yourself a bigger hole here!"