Chapter 5
349 Words
5
“How’s the pie, Freya?” Dad asks, loading another helping onto his plate.
Freya puts a thumb up because she has a mouthful of food.
“Let her finish eating, Chris,” Mum says. “You’re as bad as those waiters in TGI Fridays, always asking how the food is just as your mouth is full. It’s embarrassing.”
Freya swallows her food and smiles. “Yeah, I know. I’m sure they do it just for the fun of it.”
I finish the last of my lemonade and have to stifle a burp with my hand. Mum would kill me if I did it in front of guests. Hell, if I did it in front of Freya, I’d probably kill myself.
“Sean tells me that you’ve put in for your driving test,” Mum points out to Freya. “Do you have a date yet?”
“Not yet. I’m still waiting. My friend Lisa got her date in a few days, so not too long I hope.” Lisa the stuck-up b***h. Freya turns her attention to Dad. “So, how’s it been teaching Sean to drive? He reckons he’s mastered it already.”
“Don’t listen to her, Dad,” I say, shaking my head. “I never said that.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you, boy,” Dad says, sipping his glass of water. “This one’s a right show off.”
I tut loudly, my face on fire. “No, I’m not.”
Everyone at the table laughs but me. Do they have to embarrass me every time she comes over?
Freya finishes the last of her food and rests her cutlery on the plate. “That was great, Sue,” she tells Mum, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome. Room for pudding? We’ve got freshly baked apple crumble.”
Freya waves her hands in protest. “I couldn’t eat another thing. Plus, I’m trying to lose a little weight.”
“You look fine,” I blurt out. s**t, I shouldn’t have said that. The inferno in my cheeks makes a comeback.
“He’s right,” Mum agrees. “You don’t want to look like one of those anorexic girls on those reality shows.”
“No, I know. I just want to avoid too much sugar.”
Dad reaches over the table and grabs a bread roll. “Save the sugar for the weekend, is it?”
“Like you do, Dad?” I chuckle.
Freya beams.
“Cheeky bugger,” he replies, biting into his bread.
“No pudding for you then, Chris? I’ll save it for Saturday, yeah?”
Dad wipes the crumbs from his mouth with his sleeve. “Weekends, and when Freya comes over.”
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