“Do I have to sit in front of you?” Miles whined, sitting on the old leather couch. Frank looked up from his desk.
“Yes, you do,” He said. “You’re the one who left.”
“Well, she just showed up. I didn’t want to be rude,” He tried, hopeful.
“Not good enough.”
“Eh, I tried,” Miles nodded, leaning back on the couch. Frank rolled his eyes.
“Go get your homework,” He said to the teenager.
“I don’t have homework,” Miles mumbled.
“Then get a book. Just don’t lay there. Do something productive,” Frank scolded.
Frank threw a book at his feet. He threatened with more if Miles didn’t start reading, and soon.
Later on at dinner Jamia kept glaring at him. He was uneasy about it and kept shifting, hoping his father would notice. Frank did notice, but left him be. He shouldn’t have left in the first place.
“Dad, please let me go early,” Miles asked, shoving his text books in his book bag.
“You’re grounded,” Frank replied, sipping his coffee. His hair was a mess, and there were bags under his eyes. He was up all night, thinking about how he would talk to Miles about his situation.
“I’m gonna be so, so mad at you. You will not be getting any Christmas gifts,” He said, turning and stealing his father’s toast. Frank let him, sighing.
“Go,” Frank said, nodding. “You better not tell your mother I said you could.”
“Thank you so, so much!” Miles kissed his cheek and ran out of the building. Frank let us a grunt and wiped his son’s slobber off his cheek.
“Hey, where’s the kids?” Jamia asked, walking in about ten minutes. Frank smiled a bit, sipping his coffee again.
“Your plates in the microwave,” He nodded towards the appliance. He cooked her eggs and toast, and even sausage.
“Oh, that’s sweet, Honey,” Jamia got out her plate and sat by him, eating. Before she could ask about the kids again, Frank started a conversation about chinese clay pots.
When Miles got home that day, he was red from embarrassment. He tried talking to Blue, but would get all nervous. He was fine when they were alone, but when there were people around him, he choked.
“You don’t look too well,” Bandit observed, feeling his head. Gerard hit her hand away, glaring at the boy. “Hey!”
“I’m not in the mood to deal with him right now,” Miles said, shaking his head. He wanted to leave, and quick.
“Deal with me?! I wasn’t sucking face with someones daughter!”
“I’m a grown man.”
“Aunt Lyn-z has a father.”
“You know exactly what I mean!”
“Oh, whatever. It’s not like she’s a virgin!”
“I’m going to kill you!” Gerard yelled and Miles cowered away.
“Yo, man. It wasn’t me. Calm your face,” He assured, taking a step back. Bandit gave him the evilest look she could. “Hey, it ain't my fault you slept with Che-”
“Cherry has nothing to do with this. Nada. Zero percent with it. Ain't a chance in hell. Cherry is a virgin. Innocent, innocent child,” She said loudly, backing out of the room.
“Well, that’s reassuring,” Frank grunted, taking a big gulp of soda. Miles rolled his eyes, and made his way to his room, falling onto his bed. Pressing his face into his mattress, he let out a growl and bit.
He got hit in the back of the hid with a pillow.
“I can’t believe you told my father about not being a virgin!” Bandit yelled, hitting him again. Miles couldn’t stop laughing at this point. “Miles, it’s not funny! Did you see the look he gave me?!”
“Like he was gonna brain you?” Miles sat up,taking the pillow from the Way’s hands.
“No, it was all full of disappointment and sadness and uhg, I can’t handle that!” Bandit whines, sitting on the bed by him. He smiled a bit.
“You are a teenager,” He said softly. “You do these things.”
“But I told him when I started fooling around, I’d let him know,” She sighed.
“That was stupid.”
“She had no choice,” Gerard said leaning against the doorframe. The two teenagers jumped a bit.
“You were eavesdropping!”
“I was coming to get you. Your mom wants us to come home for dinner,” He nodded. “Come on.”
“Alright,” Bandit said, kissing Miles cheek and went with her father. Miles spent his night jacked up on pot and beer, ignoring the word like it didn’t matter.