Whylight

6.

Gym had passed by shockingly quickly, and Paul was surprised that for once, no one had made any negative comments about his weight. The kids at his last school used to do that quite often, but Paul supposed that it was only his first day after all. There would be plenty of time for the new people to catch up.

The rest of the class had passed by without any incidents either, unless Paul counted the moment that he had almost blacked out when Chris had asked him if he would like to be his gym partner. Or the moment where he had wigged out when they'd been asked to check each others pulses.

Chris' had been non existent, whereas Paul's had been unnaturally quick, which he decided to blame on his lack of exercise and excessive amount of marshmallow eating. He had been stress eating a lot lately.

"So, how was your first day at school?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Paul looked up only to find his fathers steely grey eyes boring into him. He cleared his throat.

"Uh.... Good, thank you father," he said meekly, causing Peter to snicker which earned him a slap from Pawel.

They were all seated at the dinner table. Well, all of them except Penny. Paul's older sister.

Penny rarely returned home for dinner, which Paul couldn't blame her for. But he also knew that it would earn her a scolding from their father later. Paul wished that he could be more like Penny as she hardly seemed to care what their father said about her, whereas Paul was petrified of the man.

He couldn't decide whether or not she were brave or stupid.

"Very well. Pawel?"

"I enjoyed it father."

"Good. Pablo?"

".......it was okay father....."

"Only okay?"

There was a deafening silence.

Realising his mistake, Pablo curled up in his chair and Paul froze with his fork halfway to his mouth, noticing his youngest brother shrinking away under their fathers questioning gaze. Pablos eyes grew large and fearful as the man set down his utensils and pursed his lips, pressing the tips of his fingers together while staring the youngest of his sons down.

"And why was it only okay?" he repeated.

Pablo's eyes darted over to Peter in a silent plea for help, but Peter looked away and Pablo gulped.

"I-It was good father," he stammered out eventually.

"Nono, you said it was okay. I want to hear why it was only okay."

Petrified, Pablo's eyes filled with tears and their fathers gaze hardened.

"I see. If you're not going to tell me Pablo--"

"I was invited to a party this weekend!" Paul blurted out suddenly, surprising even himself as he quickly became the centre of attention.

"You what?" Peter said. His tone mirrored the horrified expression that had crossed their fathers face and it took all of Paul's willpower to prevent himself from bolting out of the room. He was in big trouble, and he knew it.

But at least he had removed their fathers negative attention from Pablo.

"By who?" the man demanded and Paul suddenly found himself at a loss of words.

"Don't tell me it was those new goth friends of yours. I bet it was. It was, wasn't it?"

"What goth friends?"

"Paul has taken it upon himself to befriend the local freaks, father."

"He what?"

Paul turned rigid as he noticed his fathers face turning putrid with rage.

"Paul, I demand an explanation. Now."

"They're just kids who dress in black dad--"

"Those kind. You've befriended wanna be vampires!?"

"What- no! They just like to wear black!"

Paul's father stared at him, stewing in silent rage before he jerked his head toward the door.

"Out," he said.

"Dad-"

"GET OUT PAUL! I DON'T WANT TO SEE SIGHT NOR SOUND OF YOU FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT!"

Startled by the yelling, Paul stumbled to his feet and fled from the room, leaving Pablo looking extremely guilty behind him whereas Pawel only appeared to be shocked. Peter watched him go then calmly picked his fork back up and proceeded eating, their father soon following suit and Pablo excused himself before quickly racing to his room and peering out his window onto the street, slumping as he realised that he was too late. Paul was already gone.

And it was all his fault.