Maybe I should tell her that now to ruin her night.
“I did not hound you, and I wanted you to be here, to be happy for me.”
I snort. “You’re an idiot, and I’m even more of an idiot for coming here.” I say, taking another swig of Jack. Seriously, though, how did I finish it already? And good waiter-man that he is, I get another one placed right beside my old one that I just put down. I smile at him, making promises for later.
“Fine, Katie, be miserable over here, by yourself. Don’t try to mingle or make conversation.”
“Thanks, Mom. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me ever.” I ignore her pissed-off look.
It used to scare the shit out of me when I was a kid, but that was when I thought that she was a god, and had complete control over my life. Turns out gods make mistakes, too, and sometimes, they’re not even punished for it.
Across the table from me are Malcolm’s kids taking their fucking seats. Now I have to look at their ugly fucking faces all night. Somebody’s going to get a fork in the eye, and I’m not going to be held responsible.
Jared is the oldest and he thinks he’s the shit. I fucking hate him. Erin’s the middle and she has her Dad wrapped around her little finger; she gives me a smile, but I don’t return it. I’m not here to make friends. Cody’s the youngest and I think he has a crush on me.
“Enjoying yourself, Katarina?” Jared says, butchering my name. There’s supposed to be an art to it, a way to roll the R, a way to let it flow off your tongue that only Sera and Dean have ever gotten – it’s supposed to sound like a tiny piece of music.
Instead, I get the Anglo way of saying an R, and a stumble through all the syllables, like he’s trying to get through my name as fast as possible. Fucking dickhead.
“Oh, yeah. I’m having so much fun now that you’re here.”
Jared coughs in his fist, and stares at me like he’d like nothing better than to force me up against a wall and fuck me hard. Well, at least I know I’m still attractive and somebody wants me. Not that I’d touch Jared with a ten-foot pole; he’s nasty in a way that would make me seriously question my sanity and need intensely hot showers to wash him off.
Oh. Oh, shit. Oh, Dean… Do I really make you feel that way?
I wash down the pain with more alcohol, satisfied to see a third glass of the light-caramel-colored liquid waiting for me when I’m done. The waiter gives me a wink, and thinks I’m a sure thing.
Well, don’t presume, motherfucker. I’m not that far gone yet.
But it would be fun to have sex while Mom is spewing her bullshit love for Malcolm and thanking everyone for coming.
Yeah… that doesn’t sound like a bad idea after all…
“Katie!” Mom barks, dragging me out of my dreams with my potential hook-up tonight. “Come say hi to Malcolm.”
I shake my head. “No, thank you. Have a nice day.” I chug some more of my drink, letting the cool liquid pool in my stomach to soothe my anger and hurt.
Alcohol is the fucking best. It really is.
Jared smirks, and even Erin lets out a peal of laughter. Cody looks at me with a frown.
Oh, look, I’ve gone and made the littlest Malcolm-spawn upset. If Sera would here she’d give Gryffindor points. Ah, fuck, Sera and all the shit I said… Damn it, I wish she was here, too.
“Katarina DiNovro, you get up, and say hello to your step-father,” Mom growls in my ear, pinching my arm fat underneath my pit and twisting. I chew on my lower lip and don’t let out a sound. So this is what it’s come to.
“I’m not a little kid anymore, Mom. Now, get your hands off me. Hi zia!” I yell excitedly, waving my aunt Angelina over to my side of the table. Her dark eyes pinball between me and my mom, but I shrug it off, and feel the blood rushing back under my arm where Mom has finally let go.
Sometimes, I really, really hate her. Sometimes, I wish Mom was the one cursed and not me. I’m just starting my life; she thinks she can start over without making waves – it doesn’t fucking work like that.
Zia Angelina comes over, wearing this gorgeous red number that hugs her curves and shows off the girls to perfection. She’s always been prettier than my mom, sweeter, but never in your face about it.
“Hi, piccolina,” she says, giving me my nickname of ‘little’ back when I was a kid. I haven’t seen her in so long. “Como va?” My aunt speaks perfect English, she just likes putting Mom on edge.
“Could you speak English, please?” Mom’s voice comes out strained, and I want to start laughing. “Not everyone here is Italian, you know.”