Quoth the Ravaethinne: Porn and Static
I really ought to sleep. Sleep or study. It's late, and I have a major test tomorrow. I'll probably completely blow it, especially sitting in the living room watching TV with the sound turned off past midnight. Wouldn't do to wake sis, after all. My books are on the table, open and everything, but I've only really pretended to look at them when dad's been around. It's not so much that I want him to think I studied, as that when I fail everything, it's a lot easier to wriggle out of blame's way if he's got half an impression that I tried. I don't think he cares, in he end, but it's part of his silly facade.
I mean, if he cared, he would have noticed what moving around like this is doing to sis. It doesn't bother me, I'm old enough to take care of myself and not give a shit what my classmates think, but sis could really do with some more stability. Along with having a father who isn't a bloody john. Even more so this time, as Boy Toy is a ho. I saw him kissing some guy and laughing and shit!
Of course, dad wouldn't believe me when I told him, he just thinks I have it in for Boy Toy. Ha!
The next movie comes on, I don't even need to look at the clock to know it's way too late and I better come up "sick" tomorrow, because I will be dead if I have to get up from school. They never show porn before three in the morning, and Boy Toy's gonna wake me up at seven. Since when did I need him to get me out of bed anyway? Damned jerk. I flip the channel, because I really don't want to see this shit, but all I seem to hit is static. So that's what's on TV this late? Porn and static. It might be funny if it wasn't so sad.
I have no clue how I could not hear the front door opening and closing, but suddenly Boy Toy is standing in the doorway, looking at me and frowning. I guess he worked late or something.
"Raven... You need to sleep." Why does he even try to sound like he cares? It's infuriating that he's always saying everything so freaking nicely.
"Test tomorrow," I mutter, turning off the TV. It's just static anyway. "Can't sleep."
He walks into the room, sits down next to me on the couch. Oh, no. No no no. If he touches me now, I'm going to scream up a storm and slap him so hard his grandchildren are born with black eyes. Figures dad would find himself a boy toy who is really after his daughter.
But he doesn't touch me. Just leans forward and looks at my school books. "You should've asked me for help earlier."
"What for?" Like hell he knows anything about food groups or proteins or anything associated with cooking, he looks like a skeleton in a sack, for goodness's sake! Besides, what geek ever knew anything about home ec?
"I was at the top of my Nutrition class in high school, I could've helped you study." He shrugs. "I'll make you a deal."
"What?" I'm suspicious. I don't like it when he tries to be nice, but it's really hard to second-guess him when he harldy ever takes an opportunity to take advantage of the situation, nothing at all past moving in with dad in the condo.
"I'll tell your father you're sick tomorrow, if you'll accept my help studying for the make-up exam." He leans over, closes the textbook and gathers my notes in a neat stack, putting the book on top of them.
Even if he is telling the truth, well... Why the hell would I want an A in home ec?
"Will you stop sucking up already, fucktoy?"
I silently stomp off to my bedroom and get in bed; don't even bother undressing. I ain't buying his bullshit.