Scored in Love (Wattys2015)

~33~ take on me

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I play with the food on my plate. Dad’s singing along to his A-ha playlist. He’s not doing much to improve my mood. I swear if I hear one more line of “Take on Me” I’ll grab a machete and go to Morten Harket’s house…

He’s annoying the living daylights out of me.

I grit my teeth and shovel a mouthful of syrupy pancake in my gob. I try to chew my frustration away. 

Dad’s reading the weekend papers. He shows me a few articles, snidely commenting on the content. Uh, Dad, what makes you think I’d be interested in two faded celebrities bickering over the other’s renovation plans in a rich suburb? Dad hates noise pollution — he’s so bloody old. No wonder the ladies steer clear of him — not that he gives them much of a chance to impress.

Grinning, he hands me the gossip pages. Usually, he just dismisses celeb news as trivial and brainless. Half-interested, my eyes skim over the pictures and gossip. Just the usual, then. Another It girl stumbling out of a nightclub clothed in skimpy attire. Yawn. 

“Come for a quick snack, Mishka?” 

Dad’s voice jolts me out of my gloomy thoughts. The cat purrs as Dad strokes his blotchy ears. Large green eyes sparkle as the cat stares at me. There’s a sly, knowing expression around its mouth. My mouth tightens. 

I turn my head. Dad moves around the kitchen searching for cat food. I don’t understand why he bothers buying cat food in the first place — Mishka is just a beggar cat. Just goes to show, Dad cares more about a neighbour’s cat than he does about his own daughter.

Because if he cared about me, he’d know Mr Zeepler is a fvcking creep. Too bad he only cares about appearances. He’s a snob.

Dad frowns as he sits down again. “Amelie, take that hat off. What have I told you about wearing hats indoors—”  

“It’s just a hat.”

“It’s rude—”

“You’re never happy with me—” I snap out.

“That’s not true,” Dad sighs. “I’m only trying to do what’s best for you. It’s hard for me—”

“I don’t need to hear this sh!t,” I growl out. The fork clatters down against the plate noisily. “You’re a clueless control-freak — that’s what you are. And I hate you.”

The cat pauses to stare at us. His eyes dart between us. His pink tongue still polishing off the food in the cat bowl. Probably, he visited for this exact reason — to see the aftermath.

“Mind your language!” Dad’s eyes gleam angrily. “You’re not a three year old.”

How would a three year old even know how to swear? See? Dad is an idiot.

“Fvck you.”

“You’re unmanageable. Get out.”

“As if I’d want to see your face—” 

As Dad is opening his mouth to respond and I’m taking my leave of the room, Mishka leaps onto the table and swipes a paw against my head. The wooly hat tumbles onto the floor and the evil cat scoops the remnants of the cat food into the hat. He runs off with it. 

Dad’s jaw drops in shock as he looks over my head. He stands up and grips my upper arms tightly. His cheeks are red.

“What the hell happened to your hair? Who did this to you?”

I shrug my shoulders. Tears are threatening to spill down my face.

“Tell me.” His green eyes are hard.

“I said no. Get it through your head,” I hiss.

“Gina put you up to this, didn’t she? Stay away from that girl. She’s a troublemaker—”

“Don’t blame her, you b@stard.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You look like a boy—think what people are going to say—”

Another nonsensical rant.

“I did it,” I raise my voice above his. “Since you always wanted a boy, I figured I may as well look like one.”

We stare at each other. His eyes turn a shade colder. His mouth tightens arounds the edges. 

“Was this a cry for my attention?” He runs a hand through his hair. “I knew it! God, you’re turning out like your mother. The Gold-digger—”

I scrunch my eyes. I’m sick of him! Why is he still obsessing over that b!tch? Why can’t he man up?

“The Gold-digger dumped you, Dad. She doesn’t give a fvck about you.”

I mean what I say. This isn’t just a slip of the tongue that I’ll regret afterwards. 

What I don’t expect is his response. 

“Well, she didn’t give a fvck about you too.”

He stares at me. There’s a wildness in his eyes. A malicious smile taunts me. 

At this moment, I wish he was dead.

Shortly after, I hear him making a call in the hallway. 

A/N: Please VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE! Thank you! :) Whose side are you on? Amelie or the dad's?