A Slap

“Maya, get to the dining table for dinner,” I heard my mother shout from the kitchen, and nodded before I could stop myself. I should be talking. I mused, my eyes unable to leave the outfit that Naomi had finally settled on, the outfit I will be wearing for tomorrow’s classes. I still found the whole stuff overwhelming.

The outfit consisted of a black crop top, an oversized blue jean jacket and baggy black striped denim jeans. I would be rocking it with Noami’s chunky boots. And this attire sufficed because I had refused to wear anything tight like the short skirt she had brought out or the tiny pants that had hugged every curve I owned.

I didn't want Adam thinking that I was dressing up because of him. But was that notion unavoidable, especially since the whole school knew of my wardrobe?

What manner of bullying will color my day tomorrow?

Claire’s angry face before I left for Naomi’s room still colored my vision.

I instantly jumped out of my bed when I heard my mother’s voice for the second time. It was best to leave now before her mate began to holler at me. Although, surprisingly, he hadn’t said anything since he had come back with my mother from the meeting. The same with my step siblings, Lilian and Lent.

What had the Lycan king decided concerning me? I thought, donning a sweater over my ash sports bra. I hadn’t gotten around asking my mother, because of the intermittent calls with Naomi. Emotional support for tomorrow.

I gave a last glance to clothes on the bed, and walked out of my room. Tomorrow’s problems will sort themselves out tomorrow.

“Maya, stop spacing out and eat.” My mother mentioned a few minutes after I had settled down to eat, gesturing with the spoon in her hand to the pasta on my plate.

I wasn’t in the mood for pasta but of course I wasn’t going to tell her that, to avoid my head getting screamed off. But why hadn’t she made my favourite though? She had promised that she would. What changed her mind? Did something happen?

“Sure mom.” I muttered, taking my fork and digging into the pasta which felt cloggy at one touch.

Mum was in a bad mood. I could tell by the imperfect meal that she just made. Her pasta was never clogged with water unless she was really angry.

What was going on? What did the lycan king say about me? What had been their final decision? Were they going to ban me from the pack?

Thoughts running tro and fro my head, made me drop the fork to the plate sharply, causing a clunking sound to echo across the dining room. The three diners stared at me unabashedly.

“What is the problem, Maya? Don’t you like the pasta? I am sorry that I couldn’t make your favorite. It was just that…'' She was saying when Lilian interrupted her harshly.

“Mum, why bother about her?” Lilian asked. “She will be leaving very soon, after all. She is not worth the stress.”

Lilian was awestruck, the same state we were in the next two seconds, when my mother turned aside and landed a hot slap on her cheek. My mother has never raised a hand on any of us. She must be reallypissed off.

“How the hell did you grow up like this? Well, your father isn’t really a good raising partner, is he?” Mother asked, not moved or remorseful when a tear slipped from Lillian’s left eye. Rather, she turned to my father and glared at him.

My old man never said a word, rather his head was bent low, his food forgotten at that moment.

He must be afraid. I concluded, remembering that my mother had said that she would leave him if he chased me out of the house. Was he afraid that she would make her words true now? Was that why his mouth was clamped shut, even though his favorite daughter just got slapped because of the daughter whom he despises?

My mother was still fuming and watching her heave in and out in anger, I could tell that she wanted my father to say something, anything, that would spike up her rage the more. I could tell that she wanted to pour her anger on him especially.

Was my leaving affecting her this much? What was I even thinking? Of course she would be like this.

But where was I going? Was there a specific location m? Or was I exiled to pick up the pieces of my life, prey to other rogues? What was going on?

When my father didn’t give my mother what she was yearning for, she stood up briskly from her chair and walked out of the dining room.

“See what you have caused, bitch?” That was Lent. He was glaring at me with thick hatred, but I wasn’t pained by that either. I was already used to all these exhibitions.

I shrugged my shoulders in response, keeping my tongue in check.

Maintaining that composure, I stood up from my seat and walked toward the passageway. I needed to find my mother, not stay here with these tormentors.

Before I left the dining room entirely for the three haters of my life before bullies, however, I cast a last glance at the man called my father.

His head was still bowed. I wondered what he was thinking about; if he was feeling a bit of remorse for how he had treated me the past years or if he was thinking of how to make it up with his mate. The first reason seemed impossible.

I also caught a glimpse of Lilian, just before I entered the passageway. She was still holding her cheek, still in shock, her food totally forgotten.

The slap had been a shock quite alright, but I liked it, so damn much. I just didn’t like that mother was upset. But the slap? That was legit.