Pure Belleza | ✔️

(8)

"Alright, here are the rules—"

"Dad! Every time?"

"Shut your mouth," Dad pointed at me as he paced in the foyer with nothing but his boxer shorts on. In his defence, the weather was fucking hot. "You are under the legal drinking age, which means if you get caught. I get fined. So don't get caught—"

"Drayton—"

"Second," he interrupted Mom who was leaning on the staircase banister with an exasperated expression. "If you must consume, have a glass of water between each drink. And don't be dumb. Be responsible. If you come home with the wobbles or chunder on any inch of this house, I'll expose your embarrassing asses on social media—"

Abby gasped. "Dad!"

"If you get pregnant," he pointed at Abby. "You'll be eating nothing but cheeseburgers for an entire twelve months and the modelling gig will be done. And Lucas, if you knock anyone up, I'll knock you the fuck out."'

"You don't wanna be a gramps?"

"You don't wanna be a corpse?"

"Can we go now?!" Abby threw her arms up.

Her adidas shoe squelched on the floor as she twisted with boredom. I was a little surprised she had a pair of shorts on that billowed around her legs and a tank top tucked in which didn't expose her midriff. 

Mom wondered over just as I was noticing how much Abby looked like her. Their blond heads met side on as Mom pulled her into a hug and then I was next.

"Be safe tonight," she gave us both a pointed look. "Look after each other. I love you."

"Love you Mom," we answered in unison.

She stopped in front of Dad and he peered down at her with a curious expression. "Wrap it up."

His brows shot up. "Does that have a double meaning?"

"N—"

"I love you guys," he laced their fingers together and pointed at us. "Be safe. No drink driving. Seriously, you are both my world so make me proud and make good choices."

We stared as he dragged our mother across the foyer and up the staircase. With age, I've learned one thing. Marriage is meant to dwindle a sex life. We're programmed that way. We're programmed not to act like hormonal teenagers for the rest of our lives so that our fucking children don't end up scarred for life! But apparently Mr and Mrs Lahey didn't get the damn memo.

Animals.

Abby and I headed out to the Range Rover and slid in. It was sort of weird not having Max tag along. Especially since he drives us to and from. The stereo hummed the tune of some EDM song at a low volume and the solar lights that line the drive glowed against the hedges on either side of us.

"Abby," I leaned an elbow on the center console and smiled. She glanced up from her phone and raised a brow. "Drive home tonight?"

"What? No."

"Why not?"

"Because then I can't drink."

"You shouldn't drink anyway."

"Lucas, I swear to—"

"Ooh I love this song," I shut down the argument before it could flare.

I'd have to roll out of this car if I had to listen to her harping on about double standards. Which wasn't the reason I didn't want her to drink. I just didn't want her to be vulnerable.