No Romeo Story

Chapter Two// Emily Spencer

Blake's Point of View

"Mom, why did Emily have to go?" A tear rolls from my cheek.

"Blake listen to me, I don't want you talking to that girl ever again."

"Emily?" Why would I stop talking to my best friend? "I love her."

"No. No you don't." Mom takes a hold of my arm and pulls me towards the house. The garden is empty now apart from us, the barbecue still on and party hats dropped to the floor.

I don't know what happened, I was with Emily the whole time.

My parents told me nothing for the rest of the night. They didn't bring the party up once. They said when I am older I will understand.

That was a lie.

Taking out my ear phones to the abrupt sound of what sounds like the smash of a broken plate, I am still as clueless to what had actually happened that night ten years later.

"Just calm down Gary!"

"Everything ok?" Everything is most certainly not ok. Evident by the shards of a smashed plate on the kitchen floor, my guess had been correct. "What is going on?" My eyes scan from the hot face of my mother across the room to my dad hoisting up his clenched fists.

"I want to kill them."

"Don't say that!" My mom begs, her under eyes dark with what I am hoping isn't mascara. I hate it when my mom cries, especially if it is an effect of one of dad's bad tempers.

"But it's true. Those blasted Spencers don't know when to quit."

Not this again.

A sigh of exasperation escapes my lips. "What have they done this time?"

"They let that stinkin' rabbit free so it could dig a hole under the gate and into my garden. The little pest has already demolished our flower bed with paw prints and it's made it's way to the vegetable patch." Dad covers his hands down the length of his face before returning his gaze back to the window.

"Wait!" Mom exclaims. "The beast is still out there?" She rushes to the window besides dad, her face panic-stricken.

"What beast?" A moment later Thomas walks through the door. My slightly older brother holds a slice of toast close to his mouth with butter dripping down his face.

"A rabbit." I say plainly, fed up of everyone always making a huge drama over nothing. I sit down on one of the kitchen bar stools with my chin rest in the palms of my hands.

"But dad's allergic to rabbit fur." Tom states. My eyes roll.

"Exactly, that is why I cant go out there and get it!" Dad rages with the motion of his hands vigorously darting towards the back door. Mom gets herself more flustered as she tries to fan herself down with her hands.

"I don't like little animals." Tom licks his fingers free of butter then pours himself a glass of juice. At least he's not freaking out like my parents who just need to chill. There is no way I'm telling them that though.

"I'll go get it." I see no other option for this to be solved without dad pulling out his shot gun and be-heading Emily's pet. "I don't mind, it's only a rabbit. Practically a bunny." I step past dad to open the kitchen door.

"Practically a devil with fur, if you ask me."

"No one asked you." I mutter under my breath as I step out into the morning sun. The back door slams shut only seconds after I am through it.