Thirty one

Alexander Walters:

"So you missed the football match because you were planning a date with this girl?" Nathan asked, positioning the snooker cue in front of the white ball, ready to aim.

"Yes, I did. I had to make sure everything was in place for the date but she still didn't show." I explained and Beckham snickered.

"I can't believe you prepared a beach date and a romantic room in some hotel, spent all that money to buy food and crud but she still blew you off." He laughed and I rolled my eyes.

"What the fuck? He booked a fucking hotel for the boring nerd?" Nathan joined in the laughter, finally making a play with the cue.

I was unamused. I didn't understand what the boys found funny about it.

"Nathan, I was as shocked as you are when he told me about it. Going through all this for a prude virgin who won't still give you sex." Beckham spoke and for some reason, I felt a wave of annoyance fuel in me as he insulted Katherine.

I collected the cue from Nathan. It was my turn now. "She's not boring, she's very fun to be with. I'm telling you."

"Ouu. Looks like Mr. Hard guy is in laauuuvee with little miss goody–two–shoes." Nathan cooed in a high-pitched girly voice, he and Beckham broke into a burst of teasing laughter.

I rolled my eyes, "You both know more than anyone else in this world that I'm incapable of love." I aimed the cue and made my play, scoring three balls.

"Well, we used to. But now we're unsure. Here you are missing our football game just because of some unimportant girl and a crappy date." Nathan said. I passed the cue back to him.

"Yeah, man. You should've had sex with her by now, what's all the delay?" Beckham asked and I sighed. I don't know either. They were right, I should've had sex with her by now, it usually didn't take this long with the other girls. But it's different with Katherine and I don't know why. She's making this chase really hard.

"The wait makes it better." I simply answered, not giving them any more information. They'd just call her more prudish names and make fun of me if I tell them more.

"Well, the pussy better be worth the wait then," Nathan said and Beckham chuckled.

Nathan walked up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, "Bro, we just miss having you around. And we think you shouldn't be doing expensive shit for her just to get her to fuck you, man. It's just pussy— Katherine's for that manner, she seems like she'd be a boring duck." Nathan said. I said nothing in response. They were getting on my nerves honestly and it was taking everything in me not to talk back.

"Just have her already so we can get back to how we were before she interrupted."

"Sure. I'll be quick." I simply replied.

"Well, will you be coming to watch the game tonight then?" Beckham questioned and I shook my head in naught.

I dropped the snooker cue on the table, "No, I gotta go study." I said to them, picking up my backpack from where it lay next to the table.

Nathan and Beckham shared a confused expression before they broke into yet another hysterical fit of laughter.

"Since when did you open a fucking book, Alex?"

I hung the bag over my shoulder, "Since when I was told I'd get a kiss as a reward."

Katherine Thornes:

"Homeschooled?" I yelled. What the heck? Why would my mother go through with such a decision without letting me know?

"Yes, Katherine. But not to worry, you would still be attending school. It's obvious that you're slacking on your studies because it seems like you have so much free time on your hand, so you spend it with boys. And the fact that you're living in that damn apartment makes it hard for me to keep a watch on you."

Where was she going with this? I hope she's not saying I have to move back in here, under her strangulating watch. I haven't agreed to the homeschooling moreso moving back here.

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that immediately after you're done with school, you come here and Mr. Evans would be waiting for you. You will be taught all you need to know up until nine pm and then you can go back to your apartment and sleep, and then it continues the next day." Is my mother even listening to herself right now? Does she hear how absurd her plan seems?

Oh my goodness! Why does she act like this all the damn time?

"Mother, it hasn't come to this. This method seems exhausting and impossible. How am I supposed to go through with this? I don't think I can."

"But you must Katherine." She quickly said. "You must. You're slacking off in your studies and you need to be put back on track. I don't trust you to do that yourself because your mind is now occupied with other irrelevant things, that's why I went out of my to get you a private teacher."

"Well, I didn't ask for one!" I retorted.

"You don't need to. I am a mother for a reason and I should know what you're lacking and what you need without confirming from your first, or regarding your opinions."

"Mother, I promise I would study when I get back from school. There's no need for an unnecessary thing like a homeschool teacher." I tried to reason with her, calmly. I had lowered the tone of my voice. The last thing I wanted was a lecture about manners added to this.

"No, Katherine. I'm doing this for your own good. I have given you enough liberty and you've abused it. The last thing I want is for you loosing focus in school and getting pregnant for some boy and having to drop out. Your father would laugh at me, scorn and mock me. I don't want that." I can't believe this woman. How can she not hear how self-centered and selfish she sounds right now?

"No, you're doing this for yourself, not me."

I shook my head in naught.

My mother glanced at Mr. Evans, he just sat there and looked so out of place in between a mother and daughter argument he was partly the cause of.

My mother's scowl heightened on sighting that, not at Mr. Evans but at me. She hated nothing more than being embarrassed— she tried to maintain a prim and proper behavior around others like her life was so perfectly planned out and she had all her shit figured out. She liked others to believe she had led a perfect life, even though it was quite the opposite.

Now, Mr. Evans was seeing one of the parts of her that she didn't want the outside world to see, the unperfect 'perfect' relationship she shared with her daughter.

She was so angry at me for bringing it out to a stranger.

"I'm not going to trade words with you child, my decision has already been made. You start tomorrow, your timetable has already been set. Make sure you're here immediately after you're done with school, I won't take any absence or slacking." Her tone was decisive and stern and at this point, I knew it was useless to continue to argue. She was like a heavy stone boulder, heavy to move away and uneasy to budge.

She rose from the couch, "Get yourself prepared and ready because if you defy my orders, I have no problem taking away this new–found freedom of yours."

And with that, she exited the living room. Was that avenue to leave me and my new teacher to 'bond'? Hell no. The moment she left the living room, I dashed out of the house and let my tears flow freely.

This wasn't parenting any longer, this was torture. Strangulating torture. And she always says she's doing it for my own good but that's false, she's doing it for herself. So as to save face in front of my father so she can prove to him she raised me right, pure, and brainy without needing his help.

She just wants to prove a point to others and not actually help me. She's insecure that I'm gradually slipping out of her choking grip and she's doing everything in her power to stop it, but I'm tired. I'm sick and tired of being in her hold and I want out!

My knees collapsed in front of the door and I lowered myself to the last step on the porch in a crying mess. I hated this life. I hated the life she was forcing me to live.

I didn't need to be top of the class all the damn time to graduate or become a better person in life. I'm trying hard enough as it is and it's not still enough for her.

I want to live.

I want to breathe.

I want to actually be a teenager!

I want to fall in love.

I want to be on social media.

I want to go to parties and have fun!

I want to get drunk.

I want to kiss boys.

Fuck, I want to be allowed to make mistakes because I'm a human teenage girl and I can never be as perfect as my mum wanted me to be.

And that's exactly what I'm going to do. Make mistakes.

I grabbed my phone immediately and dialed the number without giving it a second thought.

"Hello, Katie?"

"Katherine! Why are you crying? What's wrong?" She asked concernedly immediately after she heard my tone.

I sniffled, "Just come pick me up, I'm in front of my mother's house." I stated amidst my tears.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Just wait for me. I'll be dropping you off at your apartment right?" She questioned and I shook my head in naught, even though she couldn't see me.

"No, Katie. Let's go get drunk."