And I'm fed up with having to explain myself. That time of my life is over.
"Relax, go on. I was about to leave anyway, I just dropped by for a moment..." my father says.
And I'm glad he understood we had to go.
"Good, then goodbye..." I tell him.
Without another word I grab my jacket and walk out, with the others right behind me. We head straight to the parking lot, my anger boiling over. I'm disgusted by being bothered like this.
His visits will never be pleasant for me. He always comes out with something, and now he wants to marry me off to Carla? Ha! Never. We only slept together, nothing more.
"Brat, why are you like this with your father?" Miguel says to me.
And it pisses me off. I'm not going to change my plans for him.
"You say that because you don't have to put up with him... He's always on my case about everything. Nothing I do is ever enough for him, and he always wants to force me into things. You like him because you don't know him like I do..." I tell him.
I'm exhausted from being questioned and from people not putting themselves in my shoes. Of course, since Miguel has perfect parents, he thinks life is all sunshine and rainbows. But it isn't. Only those who live it know.
"Yes, I know he hasn't been the best father, but he still deserves your respect..." he tells me.
I'm tired of these lectures. If I wanted sermons, I would've called my father myself. I know why I treat him the way I do.
"Yeah, sure... If you want, I'll give him to you," I say. "You know what? Let's not argue about things that have no solution, because no matter how much I explain, you won't understand. So let's not talk about it anymore. Better we just enjoy the night..." I tell him.
We get to the bar, I park my car, and we go inside. We order a bottle of Johnny Walker whiskey. As soon as we sit down, the waitress starts giving the three of us some playful looks.
Well, I get it-you don't often see three handsome men together. I'm dark-skinned, with black hair and blue eyes. Miguel is my height, blond with lighter blue eyes. And Jon is six feet tall, with brown hair and green eyes. She smiles flirtatiously, leans a little closer to my ear, and says-
Would you like to see my panties...?" the woman says to me.
I laugh-wouldn't be bad after all this fooling around, but I think I'd rather wait a bit.
"Maybe later..." I tell her.
I chuckle, wink at her, and she smiles back. I notice she's flirting with Miguel too, but he makes it clear he's not interested. Jon and I, on the other hand, can't stop looking at her, although I can tell Jon hesitates a bit. Now that I think about it, I believe he's seeing someone-if memory serves me right, it's Miguel's girlfriend's friend.
"Brat, what's wrong? You look really distracted. Did something happen with your father?" Miguel asks me.
The truth is, yes, I'm upset with what he said. He always finds a way to ruin my moment. I take a deep breath and answer.
"He wants me to marry Carla, the daughter of one of the investors, and get her pregnant. I don't want that. His excuse is that it's 'for the good of the company'..." I say.
And just remembering it annoys me.
"Carla... isn't she Henry's daughter? The second-largest shareholder at Berkshire?" he asks.
And now suddenly everyone knows her? That feels suspicious. Maybe she sought me out on purpose. I frown and ask him:
"You know her?" I say.
I look at him surprised that he knows her. Could it be he slept with her too?
"No, but my father won't stop talking about her. And he wants the same thing for me..." he says.
What a surprise. They want to trap him too. Well, at least I'm not the only one. Honestly, I wish he'd ditch that little girlfriend of his and marry Carla instead, so they'd stop bothering me.
"Quite a mess we've both got ourselves into, huh?" I tell him.
And it really is, because there's no way I'll ever get married.
"So, do you know her?" Miguel asks me.
Not at all. If I'd known who she was, I'd never have hooked up with her. That alone is reason enough for me to cross her off, no matter how good she looks.
"Well, I did sleep with her today, without knowing who she was..." I tell him.
We look at each other, and he stares at me strangely. I don't understand why- I neither want her nor desire her.
"You're not dating her, are you, Brat?" he asks.
Dating? Never. We just fooled around, but for me that's not enough-not even to repeat. I only did it again because desire got the best of me, but that won't happen again.
"No, of course not. You know that's not me. We were together twice, and that's it..." I tell him.
Besides, I'd never take someone like her seriously.
"Twice, Brat...?" He pauses, thoughtful. "You, who never go twice with the same girl..." he says.
Yeah, sure, it's easy to get confused. But I don't do that-ever. Now he thinks I'm in love, but that's not the case.
And if it ever does happen, it certainly won't be with her. She's more worn out than a flute.
"No, no, don't twist things, Miguel. Three weeks ago Iván called me and asked if I wanted to join a threesome. Said there was this girl who wanted the two of us. I agreed. A week later the idiot gave her my number, and she called me. I was clear with her: I never repeat. She said it would just be fun, nothing more. And honestly, I was in the mood, but I also wanted to hang out with you guys, so I told her to come by my place. She agreed, and I had the bad luck of my father seeing her leaving my apartment. That's when he started bothering me with what I just told you..." I explain.
I know it's easy to misinterpret things, but that's never going to happen.
"For real, you don't like her even a little?" he asks.
Never. Sure, she was hot, and the sex was satisfying-but not to the point of anything else.
"Nooo, it was just for fun... you know I don't repeat. It was just an exception..." I tell him.
And he keeps staring at me, as if trying to figure out what's going on. I honestly don't see the problem.
"It's strange for you. You never-ever-make exceptions. Are you sure you don't like her...?" Miguel says.
While he talks, my attention drifts back to the waitress. Sure of it-absolutely sure. That girl is not for me. I didn't even remember her name until now.
"Completely sure," I answer.
Of course. Why would I waste my time on a slut?
"So, what do you plan to do about your father?" he asks.
For now, nothing. Because I'll never do what he wants.
"I don't know... but for the moment, I just want to have fun tonight. Be right back..." I tell him.
I get up and walk straight to the waitress who had been flirting with me earlier. I grab her by the hips, slide my hand slowly along her thigh, lean close to her ear, and whisper:
"I'd like to see your panties..." I tell her.
She laughs, and I flash her my most charming smile. Then I head straight for the unisex bathroom, and she follows me. We slip into one of the stalls. I go in first, then she comes in after me. I lock the door, press her back against the tiles, lift her skirt, push her panties aside, pull a condom from my pocket, tear it open, unbuckle my pants, and put it on as fast as I can.
And I enter her without the slightest trace of delicacy. She arches at the sudden invasion-probably because of the size of my manhood-but as always, I don't care, since I'm only after my own pleasure. I grab her hair and thrust once, twice, and then over and over again, pounding into her, slamming my hips against her ass time after time until, at last, I reach my climax.
I let her go, give her a kiss on the back, and leave the bathroom. When I step out, Miguel looks at me, laughs, and shakes his head. I laugh too, then head back to the table, and he says:
"Oh Brat, you never change. I thought you told me you'd just been with Carla..." he says.
And he laughs, and I do too. So what? Just because I had some fun with Carla doesn't mean anything. I never get tired, and I answer him:
"Yes, and so what? You know how I am, and I'm not going to change for my father or for any woman. That I can swear to you..." I say.
And it's the truth, because I don't plan on changing my way of life-not today, not ever.
"I used to say the same thing... maybe you just haven't met the right one yet," he says.
But I'm not like him, and I never will be. That much I'm sure of.
"Or maybe she doesn't exist, don't you think?" I tell him, and he laughs.
Dear readers, don't forget to vote and leave your comments-it motivates me to keep writing for you. With much love,
Francia.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter of Brat.
Don't miss the upcoming chapters-they're going to be on fire.