Arabella Rivera Having dinner with my parents was a disaster. Okay maybe I was a bit dramatic. It wasn't so drastic that it would have been mistaken for a tornado or a raging hurricane. It was just.....bleh. Like a, I rather be anywhere else than here kind of disaster. I poked the lettuce on the very expensive plate but had no intentions of pushing it inside my mouth. I was hungry but I couldn't find it in me to eat. Not when there was so much awkward tension weighing down in the room. My phone pings and my eyes fall to the lit up screen. It was a text from Gwen. Of course she had to be taking a dump while texting me, should I have expected anything else? Gwen: Is it normal for someone's poop to look green? I'm looking at my shit right now and it looks like the grinch who stole Christmas. Gwen hadn't bothered coming to school today, apparently, she caught a stomach bug. I had caught a ride with Haiden in the morning and made him stop for me a little far from the school. He wasn't too fond of the idea of letting me walk but I demanded he let me down. If we weren't ready to let anyone know about us, it would've been a red flag to have me riding with him to school. We couldn't go from ignoring to catching a ride with you so soon. "Arabella, no phones at the dinner table." Father grumbles. I lift my head and my eyes fell on his emotionless eyes. They stared at me as though I was a stranger and honestly, I might as well be. From the opposite end of the table, mother sighs in irritants. "Just leave her be John." Father's furious glare snapped to mother and I could feel the approaching argument. I hated this part. My stomach does uncomfortable flips as I prayed inwardly that they wouldn't argue right now. But of course, when did anything ever go my way? "Why should I Margie? There is a need for us to discipline her. At least one of us needs to. You sure as hell aren't." He spits, placing his glass down on the table. Mother's face tightened with frustration and anger. But even with all that heavy emotions, I could detect one she clearly tried to hide away from everyone. Sadness. "And how would you know John? You've barely been around!" She spat, the veins in her neck protruding alarmingly. The grip on my fork is nearly deathly as they continued to argue on. I hated being in the middle of it. I loathed it. "You're going to make her think it's entirely fine that she's texting while having dinner with her parents. What else next? Texting while driving?!" Father slammed his fist on the table and everything on the table shook. I was used to him showing aggression when he was angered. This wasn't any different. I didn't even flinch. Mother's eyes daggered him down before she lets out an ugly laugh. "You don't even know Arabella can't drive yet. Someone didn't want to send her to driving school because she needs to focus on her studies instead, remember?" The wine spills this time as he slams his fist on the table. I don't flinch, instead, I drop my gaze to my unfinished plate. "Don't make me out to be the bad guy Margie! I wasn't the one who made her cut her hair like a hooligan. " I lift my eyes just in time to see mother flinch and her expression going from anger to humiliation. Father doesn't stop though, he continues. "Just look at her Margie. She's like those girls who act rebellious just for the sake of attention. The ends of her hair aren't even perfect, what would people say?" It was my turn to flinch. I should've expected that one. I thought I had grown tough over the years but sadly I hadn't. Disappointed in myself for even letting his words get to me was annoying and unsettling. I needed to get out of here. "I have lost my appetite," I grumble dropping the fork on the plate. It makes an annoying clink sound but I paid it no mind. "Not that I had anyway. " I murmured lowly. The tension in the room grew as I push the chair with the back of my knees as I got up. A palm slams on the table and I sighed. "Sit your ass back down now Arabella." Father commanded with a tone that match his tight features. Fury. Instead of crumbling under the weight of his stare, I pinned him down with my own. "I won't." I said with defiance. If he wanted a rebellious daughter, then so be it. His stormy eyes of fury held my own. "Do not let me repeat myself Arabella." He warned, tone going deadly with anger. I don't budge, only just reach out for my phone. Even though my features never changed, my heart pounded. I never stood up to him before and this new territory was quite frankly, terrifying. "Arabella..." Mother whispers softly, her tone pleading for me to listen. No, I wouldn't be like her, bending to father's will. No, not anymore. "No mother, I'm tired of listening to father's words. I'm not a guinea pig to be running on a wheel every day just to please him. It's time he realized I'm not perfect and no one is. And that's fucking fine."Mother jolts slightly at my use of language but it was too late to swallow the profanity back now. Fuck it, everyone curses once in a while. "Arabella. Repeat what you just said-" Father's mad voice shook the walls before I cut him off. "I'm, not, fucking, perfect." I voiced out every word while staring at him angrily. Even though my heart was currently pummeling and was in desperate need of ease, I stood my ground. I watch his hand turn to a tight fist on the table. "Arabella!" Mother gasped in shock. She didn't expect me to repeat the profanity, they both didn't. " Want me to repeat it again father?" My brows raise when he doesn't respond. But his features said it all. He wasn't pleased with my words or my tone. My actions were only going to fuel his anger. "I'm not fucking perfect. Just like the ends of my hair, just like the B I got in literature. But guess what? You aren't too. And neither is mother- "You better stop before I throw you out of my house. I will not sit here and have you disrespect me in my own home. I'm the parent here and not you!" Father finally roared. Mother jerks in her seat, her eyes widening in alert. I nodded, chest tightening. I didn't know if it was from fear or anger. "Fine. I'll stop. But know this before I turn my back and walk away." I lean forward and rest my palms on the shiny table."You've never been a parent and you have no right to call yourself a father." I turn around and ignore his yells for me to get back here. I was walking away from him, he didn't deserve my tears. The last words I heard before disappearing upstairs was mother's soft tone, pleading with him to let me be.