Dear Future Husband

March 23, 2019

"Hello, Grant." She said, turning her head towards me.

I turned and looked her right in the face, avoiding anything below her neck with little difficulty, I don't care how big her boobs were I hate this bitch and nothing about her was even slightly attractive to me. "How are you, Clarissa?" I said with a smile.

She smiled at me sourly, obviously disappointed I didn't take her bait, before she went over to her chair.

Everyone watched me as she slowly clicked over to her seat, waiting for me to even glance her way so they could condemn me.

"Salad?" Alina said once Clarissa took her seat.

"Yes please." I breathed, hoping the faster I ate the faster this dinner would be over.

It was quiet for a few minutes as everyone silently passed around the pasta bowl and bread basket. I thought maybe I should say something to up my game a little, but I didn't know what to say. I felt like whatever came out of my mouth they would hate instantly.

"Grant," Her mother addressed. "Would you like to say grace?"

I would've burst out laughing if it wasn't so hostile. I haven't been to church since my confirmation, and couldn't tell you one of the commandments.

"Mom, we never say grace." Alina said with just a touch of annoyance in her voice.

"It's never too late to start, besides I'm feeling a little in need of some absolution tonight." Oh Jesus Christ almighty. "Would you lead us, Grant?"

"Sure," I said, setting down my fork. I cleared my throat and folded my hands together just to find that Mrs. Troy had taken her daughters' hands, and Alina was nudging my arm to take mine.

"We never do this." She mouthed to me wordlessly. I didn't protest and took her hand, but I had a slight issue when Mr. Troy reached his arm across to hold my hand.

I would've run if it was anyone else's parents, hell, I would've run if it was Clarissa I was doing this for. I would be out the door faster than you could say Jesus. I'm still kind of confused why I didn't run, and once again find myself asking "All for Alina?" I didn't know why I went to such great lengths to please her, but I hope I fucking pleased her or else holding her dad's sweaty hand was all for nothing.

I tried not to hesitate too much when choosing my words, I wanted them to think I was actually, like, a holy person, even though I wasn't. "Oh, Lord, thank you for... uh... the food you put on our table and bless this sacred and holy family dinner you have set out for us. We pray that it... fills... us all... with joy and peace... and forgiveness. Through this we ask for your... praise... Oh, and also bless the cow that had to be slaughtered, uh, in your name to be put in this meat sauce. Amen."

"Amen." Alina repeated, a smile on her face. I looked over at her and couldn't help but smile too. Looking at her kind of distracted from the fact that I probably just said one of the worst prayers ever, but I used a lot of religious ed vocab so I mean, I was satisfied.

"Amen." The rest of her family repeated.

"Thank you, Grant." Mrs. Troy smiled at me, amused by my bullshit prayer.

It was quiet again as everyone started to eat and I considered saying something, I really should say something. This couldn't be like the last dinner.

"Are you still playing lacrosse, Grant?" Mrs. Troy asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'll be starting as a forward this year."

"Really?" Clarissa scoffed, twirling spaghetti around her fork. "Last year you were terrible at lacrosse, you were lucky if you got five minutes of playing time. What did you do, bribe the coach or something?"