Married By Chance

Chapter 8: It's time for me to party!

Amelia and Adam's dining room above.

Amelia Black

"Smith."

It's Thursday morning and Adam and I are having breakfast together. There's a fried egg, sausages, two pancakes and a muffin on his plate while mine has a pile of sweetened pancakes with way too much maple syrup.

I look at him questionably as he just said my name. My last name but whatever.

"Why aren't you eating?" He asks, studying me.

I frown. "I don't like it." It's too sweet. I don't know why the chef made them like this.

"The doctor said you should be having some sugar so that your blood sugar can get back to normal."

"It is."

"No, it isn't." He argues.

I pout harder and push the plate away.

"Eat." He commands sternly and I raise an eyebrow. Why is he talking to me like that?

"I don't want to." I retort.

He bites his lips in frustration and closes his eyes. "Eat your food, Smith."

"No, I won't and you can't force me!"

Who does he think he is? He can't just tell me what to do.

He sighs, irritably. "Stop being a child and eat the God damn food."

Gosh! There he goes with the bossy tone again!

"No!" I stand up, take the plate and throw everything in the nearest bin.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Adam shouts, standing up from his chair.

I glare at him, my nostrils flaring in anger.

"Do you know what you just did? Do you have any idea how many kids are starving out there? Do you know that there are people who struggle so hard before they get to eat?"

I don't say anything. I just keep glaring at him.

He shakes his head. "Of course you don't. You don't appreciate what you have because you don't know how fucking lucky you are."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever."

He steps closer, his eyes angrily staring into mine. "Don't ever do that again. Not in my house." He says and walks past me.

I thought this is my house too. I huff angrily then look down at the bin.

Okay, what I did was horrible.

I let out a soft sigh and grab my car keys.

****

Throwing that food in the trash is making me feel like shit. I've never done anything like that. I was raised with manners. Old fucking money manners. I respect food and all the mannerisms that comes with it.

My four grandparents all came from rich families. Money has been in my family for over two hundred years but that has never given me a reason to be unpleasant in anyway.

"How, what, why, when and where. Those are things that you all have to consider in the concept of marketing. Also customer satisfaction, customer value....."

I keep typing on my laptop as I listen to Dr Bill in this boring class. Business happens to be my worst course ever and unfortunately I can't drop the class. My dad would kill me.

I look at the girl beside me who doesn't seem to be interested as well. Her raven hair is in a short bob. Her clothes, all black. Everything about her screams goth. Her face though is soft. She's wearing zero makeup.