Page 39 of Neo
In a world full of Instagram bodies with tiny waists and huge asses, my slender, teacup-boobed body doesn’t fit in with today’s standards of “hot”.
It used to bother me a lot when I was just starting high school but with maturity I learned to accept the fact that no matter what I eat, I’m just not going to gain as much weight as another person who eats the same thing and that’s okay. I’m beautiful, just as I am. But something about Shane’s comment, or maybe the fact that he’s the one saying it, irks me tremendously.
“I’m just saying that snack on the plane they served was only about three hundred calories. What else have you eaten today?”
“What are you, my personal trainer?”
“Just come,” he commands, finally annoyed with my resistance.
Shane is typically an easy-going, even-tempered guy, but I love it when I can get to him. His nice guy routine doesn’t fool me. I know him in a way others don’t. Behind the wholesome guy next door act is a cocky, arrogant jerk who takes great delight in pissing me off.
“Why should I?”
“Just because you want to continue living in some sort of immature delusion that your parents are going to get back together doesn’t mean I’m going to allow you to disrespect my mother. She cooked a meal for us and you’re going to eat it.”
I stand and get right up in his face.
Who the hell does he think he’s talking to?
“And who’s going to make me?”
He steps even closer, his large body almost engulfing my small one. He smells like a mixture of spring fresh body wash and mint, and I wonder if he found the time to shower when he dropped his bags off at his house.
I still smell like airport.
“Kee-Kee, I will take every single green been that my mom prepared with her sweet bare hands and shove them down your throat one by one if I have to, but you will eat.”
“Is that a threat?”
“I don’t threaten women.”
“It sounded like a threat.”
“It’s simply a promise you know I’ll make good on.”
Our sudden stare off is silent and feels deadly.
Like, I could literally kill this kid.
He’s clearly getting some sick enjoyment out of this whole cluster fuck going on between our parents, and it baffles me why. He doesn’t even know my father. Why would he blindly trust that my dad will be good to his mother? Hell, he basically blindsided my own mom with the divorce. Doesn’t he get that the same thing will happen to his mother? That she’ll get hurt?
“I so wish your teammates could see this side of you,” I practically hiss. “Do they even know how cruel you are behind closed doors?”
“Oh, they know, Kee-Kee,” he responds, while a wicked grin spreads across his face.
“Whatever,” I mutter and I forcibly push him out of my way and head to whatever fresh hell I’m in store for downstairs.
kennedy
Shane’s momcooks us a very basic meal of roast beef, green beans, and roasted potatoes. It’s pretty standard American fare and in no way competes with my mom’s cooking skills. Another big difference between them both.
The food doesn’t sit well in my stomach, mainly because Shane seems to be scrutinizing every bite I take. His eyes narrow at one point during the meal, when it’s obvious he wants me to pretend that it’s the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten.
“Do you like the roast beef, hun’?” His mother asks my father. I can’t believe she’s using terms of endearment for him publicly already.
“It’s delicious, Kate. Reminds me of my grandmother’s and that’s a serious compliment.”
“Was she a good cook?”