The Leap [✔]

Chapter Eighteen

Blackmail

being blackmailed

can be the worst

and when you are surrounded

with people so unappealing

but you do what they say

or be doomed as their prey

and be threatened every day

that they could ruin your life

either way

you world is shattered

your parents would banish

you, and classmates forced to degrade you

until you just wanted to vanish.

***

"Come in, come in." 

Mom hurries to the door, opening it and welcoming our guests. I glance at each of my older brothers, none of them looking too enthusiastic. Ben and Aidan are trying to sneak up the stairs, until Dad spots them, hauling them back down by the collar of their shirts.

"Let me take your jackets. Go ahead inside, supper is almost ready." I hear Mom say, and soon Patricia and Greg, Whitney's mother and father, walk into the kitchen from the mud room. Whitney walks behind them, looking down at the floor.

"Hi there. It's nice to see you again," Patricia speaks loudly, smiling. I smile back politely, but inside I'm grimacing and don't offer any spark of conversation. 

She will talk for all of us.

She squeezes my shoulder tightly, she long nails pinching my skin. I tug away from her, and she moves on to my brothers. Greg talks to my Dad, laughing. I wave shyly to Whitney, who smiles back.

"Alright, everyone. Take a seat. We'll eat," my dad says, setting the plate of steaks in the center of the table as everyone sits down. I take my usual seat beside Aidan and Jude, Mom and Dad at the ends. Greg, Patricia sit on the other side of the table, Whitney directly across from me. 

She looks uncomfortable.

"This is a very wonderful house," Patrica says, admiring the kitchen as she takes a bite of her steak.

"Thank you," Mom says politely, sipping her tea.

"Except, I can't imagine why you would chose carpet to go with the colour of your walls. It would look so much better with hardware flooring." 

I look at this woman with surprise. I can't believe she said that. I look at my Mom, who eyes narrow but she doesn't look shocked or say anything to defend her home. That's probably because the two of them work together. 

Still, it's rude.

"Well, with a large family, we don't care about what our house looks like." my mom says, her voice tight. She smiles but it does not reach her eyes. 

My Dad looks down at his plate, smiling a little. 

Whitney seems embarrassed. I can't blame her.