FicWad

Once I got over the initial shock (and by that I mean horror) of seeing Mr. Personality helping himself to my breakfast, I had to admit that the sight that greeted me as I walked through the door was an odd one, even by our standards. Instead of the usual clutter random bills and letters on the table, a checked tablecloth with a suspicious sludgy grey stain on it and been draped over the breakfast table, the chipped cereal bowls replaced by Mum`s best china.
“Morning, Sweetie. Here`s your breakfast.” Mum places a third plate down and I begrudging sit down, my empty stomach grumbling like some kind of wild beast.
From across the table I see Jake polishing off what looked to be his third helping of a full English breakfast and I feel myself lose my appetite a little.
“What`s all this about?” I ask coldly, picking up my bent cutlery that lessened the effect of the rose patterned china somewhat. Don’t ask me, Mum has a thing about roses.
“Well we have a bit of a surprise, Bandit.” she begins, taking a delicate nibble of toast. Something must really be up; Mum was usually a bit of a health freak. Ya know the type; she somehow manages to survive on a diet of icky granola bars, mountains of limp lettuce and that bone dry cereal with added rabbit droppings and low fat milk which tasted of sewer water. At least, how I imagined swear water would taste, I’ve never actually been in a sewer, so I can only guess.
“Mmm?” I look up from my plate, wondering what it could be. Surprises didn’t normally mean anything good in this house. Normally a cooked breakfast didn’t either; it should have registered as soon as I smelt the delicious aroma. The last time Mum had cooked a full English was the day my dog, Negi, who was only three, had gone to the big bone yard in the sky, the time before that I had to have braces (which had came off last month, thankfully) and the time before that was the day my bitchy younger cousin had came to stay for the week, casting me out of my room and onto the lumpy old couch.
So was I looking forward to hearing this wonderful surprise? Not really, no.
Mum clears her throat. “Well, me and Jake have some wonderful news.”
Wonderful news my ass. I think it, but don’t say it.
That’s when I see it. The glittering little sparkle on her left hand. On her finger, more specifically the finger right next to her pinkie. The fourth finger on her left hand.
Her ring finger.
It dawns on me and I start to feel my breakfast rising in my throat. I hadn’t expected to be seeing the slightly burnt eggs again quite so soon, but what is a day without surprises? Shitty surprises, obviously. There the only kind I ever seem to have.
“We are getting married!”
And that’s all I hear. I can see her perfectly painted lips moving, but no sound is coming out, or if it is, it’s certainly not reaching my ears.
“Isn’t that wonderful news?!” Mum gushes while Jake just sits there looking smug and proud. For a minute I can imagine kicking him somewhere very specific before throwing him out the window, but obviously I don’t do that.
I don’t answer; I just sit there with my hands in my lap, jaw still open, ready for catching flies, shell shocked. Dumbstruck. Angry. She promised, Mum promised that it would always be the two of us, that after her failed marriage to my dad, (who I’ve never met by the way, I don’t even know his name or hair colour, she`s not really big on details) that she would never go throw that again.
“Darling, I know this is obviously going to be a big change for you, but Jake really cares for you and he wants to be there for you like, well like a-“
“He`s not my dad!” I don’t mean to yell, it just slips out. “I`m nearly sixteen mum, what’s he gonna do? Take me to the play park, dress up as Santa?! I don’t need him; I don’t want him in my life! You know how I feel about him!”
“Bandit, I know this is hard for you, and you must know that you will always be my number one, but don’t you think that I deserve some happiness as well?”
Of course I did, I don’t mean to be a total mega bitch. I just hated this guy. Well every guy she`s ever dated. Harry, Steve, Mark, Luke, Tom, and everyone else. Mum just has a knack for picking all the wrong guys and they always end up breaking her heart or being total asses. I don’t want her to get hurt again. I don’t want to get hurt again.
You see friends, I`ve never had a Dad. Well, I obviously did once, I mean my Mum`s great and all, but she isn’t no Virgin Mary. But by the time I was born, he was long gone. I don’t know the details; I don’t know anything about him in fact. All I know is that they met in New Jersey, USA. Mum used to live there until she was twenty three when she moved here, to crappy old Corby. Fuck knows why. Then a few months later, I appeared on the scene. A screaming bundle of joy. Oh and I have his eyes. Whoever the hell my dad is, I have his eyes.