Tate
Well, so last night was a pretty fucking disaster. After that bastard left, the other bastard, that is my dad, gave me the spanking of my life like he usually does whenever he thinks I fucked up, but I'm pretty much going to skip the details, because it's fucking embarrassing.
After the spanking, he confiscated my electronics and grounded me like usual and told me that the only way out of it was unless I go apologize to that bastard, and maintain a good relationship with him.
Guess what I told him. I told that bastard, "In your fucked up dreams."
So, since morning, I've been lying here on my bed, staring at the ceiling, fuming with rage, and all I could think about was how much I want to break that bastard's nose. It's all his fucking fault.
I had plans today. Reed and the other guys are out there having fun without me and my video games, laptop and phone… they're all fucking confiscated. Leah and I also had sex plans today.
And I still can't believe he's Mr Landry's replacement! Finding out that he was a new teacher at our school was a shocker, but finding out that he teaches Economics made it worse.
Economics is a subject my dingbat dad forced me to major in. I know, it wasn't typical that a talented jock like me took classes like that seriously. But Dad, being the shitty jerkwad he was, wanted an assurance, just in case I encountered an accident that might hinder me from becoming a professional athlete.
And also, most good players in high schools don't always become professional athletes.
So, yeah, I've been taking the class, and as pretty fucking funny as it sounds, I've come to like it. Mr Landry made me like it. But he's getting replaced by that… by that… Shit, I need to do something.
But what? What can I do to make Redfuck go away?
Redfuck? Ha! Finally, a name that matches him!
Tap tap.
A knock sounded on the door before it gently pushed open. I didn't need to turn my head to the door. I already knew it was Mom.
"What do you want?" My tone was brusque. But that was the whole point.
Mom sighed, "You've been in your room since morning and refused to come downstairs and eat."
"I'm not fucking hungry." I muttered, "I already told you that."
"Do you… Must you swear every time you open your mouth?" She asked.
I answered with silence.
"Anyways, you and I both know staying in here, starving yourself won't do you any good." She stated the obvious. "Your dad always gets what he wants. And what he wants is for you to apologize to Red. Red is a good guy. And I'm sure he'll make a great teacher too. So, apologize, your grounding will be lifted, and your gadgets will be returned to you."
"Are you done?" I asked curtly. "If you are, then you can leave."
Mom sighed again, then shut the door.
I lay on my bed for a while, mulling over what she just said. She was right. That prick, Chase Parker, always got what he wanted.
I might never get my phone back, and I might have to start missing practice due to my grounding. And when that continues to happen, someone else will take my place as the captain, my popularity will take a hit, I might stop playing games, the pussies I get… hell no!
I hurriedly sat.
The mere thought of that makes me sick.
I bit my lower lip, clenching my hands to fists as I pondered.
Besides, what's a simple apology? I'll just walk over to his house, say I'm sorry and turn back. As simple as that.
I threw on my shoes and ran downstairs.
"And where do you think you're going, young man?" Dad's voice came from the living room, halting me in my tracks.
Exhaling heavily, I turned around and walked into the living room.
Look at this bastard! He's working on a Sunday. A Sunday! Ugh!
"Where else? To Belmont's house, of course, to apologize." I answered.
"Hmm, you don't say." I got a sense that was sarcasm in his tone. He glanced up at me, "You're not planning on going empty handed, are you?"
I blinked. Confused by the shit he just spat, of course.
"I'm sorry, what do you…"
"Bring him a peace offering." He cut me off as he reclined back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. "Bake him something."
"Wh-what?!" I screeched in absolute horror, my eyes widening. "What the fuck do you mean bake him something?!"
"Don't swear at me, Tate." He warned, pointing a finger at me. "Ever."
"I'm sorry." I apologized sharply. I don't need this bastard roughing me up like he did last night. "But Dad, I can't bake. I don't know how to fry a simple egg."
"Then you learn."
Goddamn it! Most days, I look at this man and just want to gun him down. He's so… fucking, fucking annoying!
"I'll help you." Mom's voice came from the doorway, making us aware of her presence.
"No, Olivia, he needs to do it himself." Dad stood his ground.
"But, honey, you know he can't bake." Mom argued.
"It isn't rocket science."
"Even if he does bake something somehow, it'll surely taste horrible!" Mom argued further.
"That's exactly the point." Dad declared, "Since Tate is sorry, Redford has to see how sorry he is. He needs to see the raw mess Tate created and know that the apology was sincere and came from his heart. He needs to see that we raised our boy right and that he is a good kid." He turned to me and tilted his head to the side, "You are a good kid, aren't you, Tate?"
My jaw tightened. I exhaled, "Yes. Yes, I am."
"Good. Now go bake him something." He said dismissively, returning to his fucking paperwork on the table.
I felt utterly helpless. And furious. At Dad. At that bastard. At every fucking body.
But I knew I had to do it anyway. So I did. For the next few minutes, I spent them in the kitchen baking some shitty pancakes.
Of course, Mom helped me a little behind Dad's back by giving me a note on how to bake them. But it was a fucking disaster, and guess what? I gave no fucking shit!
I can't believe the first time I get my hands dirty in a kitchen is to… bake some… fuckity pancakes! For some fucking bastard guy! Oh, and I hope he gets some bad stomach ache because these taste so fucking awful!
Dad finally let me walk out of the house when I was done. My rage knew no bounds as I ambled to his front porch.
To avoid throwing him a punch when he opens the door, I let out a deep breath, then calmed myself down.
"Phew!"
Then I rang the fucking doorbell.
Ding dong!