Hornet's Nest Ch. 04

"I think you lasted about five minutes this time," Amelia said. "Good job, boys."

David managed to calm himself, running a hand down his face. He let out one more chuckle, and gently thudded his head against mine. "This is normal."

I wiped my eyes, glad I hadn't decided to cake on the eyeliner. Oh God, what the fuck.

I didn't think something would be out-doing that introduction. Things calmed down a bit while Amelia and Zack finished preparing the dinner, then everything moved from the lounge into the kitchen, fitting everybody around the table - Zack, myself, and David on one side, Darren, Tyler, and Wesley on the other, with Hanna and Amelia at the ends.

For a short while, the conversation was boring. A bit closer to what I would have expected. Rich, sophisticated people talking about the country, politics, things that could easily go over my head. They discussed something about immigration and it dragged on for too long. Tyler was ranting away when Darren cut him off.

"Well what do you put on your forms? 'White British'?"

Tyler scowled at nothing in particular before his gaze snapped around to Darren. "I'm sorry, does that offend you? Should I be putting 'Brown British' instead?"

"Oh Tyler, please," Amelia said.

Darren bounced in his seat with a chuckle. "That's not what I even-"

"Yes it is. And what, Lia? Am I not allowed to say that word? I am brown. Kid's brown, Zack's brown. And guess who else is brown?"

I looked up from my plate. Tyler was pointing his fork at me across the table.

"Girl. Which of your parents is the brown one?"

Amelia was trying to protest again and Zack pinched the bridge of his nose. "My mum," I simply replied.

David and Wesley were both laughing, but Zack leant a little further across the table. "Tyler," he started.

"No Zack, you're the brownest of the brown. What were your parents? Paki? Indian?"

"I feel like we've had this conversation before."

"Iraqi? Turkish?"

"Tyler."

"Obviously something middle-eastern."

"He came from Birmingham," Amelia mumbled. "What do you expect."

There was a pause of silence before Tyler threw his head back, shrieking with laughter, offering a slow golf clap. Amelia clasped a hand over her lips, as though shocked by what had just come out of her mouth.

Zack looked between them with his brows halfway up his forehead. "This is so racist I can't even."

David gasped for breath from his latest guffaw. "Oh my fucking God. Tyler would you just-"

"What, kid?! That was your fucking mother!"

"Well what the fuck are your roots, then? Italian? Spanish?"

"I don't even know!"

"And you think Dad does?"

Darren's face disappeared into his palms but his shoulders and chest bounced with chuckling. When he peered up his gaze met mine, as if seeking it, trying to apologise to me, with his eyes, for the absolute spectacle of this family.

*

Those days I spent with David's family ended up quite a rollercoaster. It wasn't all as exciting as that first day, but it was still overwhelming, to an extent. They were friendly, and even welcoming, but it wasn't an easy environment for me. I was like a little limpet, clinging to David's arm, following him around, wanting that familiarity.

It was broken up by trips around the town. I wanted to explore, of course, and David showed me things. We walked past his primary and secondary schools, parks and shops, and one road where he explained how he'd gotten into a massive fight with some other kids.

"This curb, right here," he said, kicking it with the toe of his shoe. "Nearly split my head open."

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"I don't know. I had anger problems, or something, and I was an idiot."

I studied him. "Had?"

He shrugged. "Other kids started on me and I bought into it. They baited me. I don't do it anymore."

We continued walking in a short silence. "I used to have a lot of problems with other kids," I said.

"Yeah?"

I told him about the primary school pond incident, which he found funny, as I knew he would, but the stories after that were a bit more serious. At first I was careful with what I said, and how I said it, but he probed more, and before I knew it I was spilling my heart to him. Telling him a couple of things I never thought I'd tell anybody.

He got frustrated by it. "What the fuck? So these kids were literally following you home?"

"Yes. I mean, I was usually able to shake them off. But they were persistent."

"Five guys wanting to beat you up? When you were a girl?"

"They obviously thought I deserved it."

He scoffed, scowled, shook his head. "What the fuck is wrong with people."

"Most of the time I was worried about my parents. I didn't want to lead something home. Some of those kids in gangs, you don't know what they're attached to, and my parents, they just-" I cut off. Shut my mouth like reflex.

"They what?"

"... They've always had enough of their own problems, and they really didn't need all the shit I caused."

He stopped, touched at my cheek, brushed hair behind my ear. "I think I..." He trailed off and sighed, shaking his head again.

"You what?"

"I think I'd lose my temper again if I ever saw anyone trying to hurt you."

I smirked. "I don't get hurt because they don't catch me." I slipped my hand into his. "I'm more worried about you, your head with these curbs."

He finally smiled. "I'm all good."

"Yeah, well, so am I. You don't have to worry about me. It's all behind me."

*

I was very tempted to take David with me to see my parents at New Year, but I didn't. It would be too much of a contrast to his home life, and I just couldn't feel comfortable about it. Not yet.

And more than that, I didn't know how my parents would react. My mum would probably be fine with it, but with my dad, I could never know. The fact was, I hadn't received a message telling me to bring David to meet them, so I didn't ask. They probably would have wanted me to be with him for longer, to really know that he was a trustworthy person. Him being from an upper-class world didn't lend any favours towards that.

Mum was there to pick me up at the station when I arrived. I made sure my suitcase was firmly strapped to the back of the bike, pulled the helmet over my head, and clambered on behind her.

She drove us through the town, weaving around cars and cutting through traffic. I leant with her when she sped around corners, our knees almost scraping the asphalt. It had been a while since I'd had a good bike ride with my mum. I'd almost been missing it.

It was a surprisingly nice-looking area. I lugged my suitcase up the stairwell of the building to their current flat. The interior was almost as nice as the exterior.

"Wow, Mum," I said. "You guys got a big paycheck or something?"

She tossed me a grin and ruffled up her helmet hair. "I told you we've been doing fine at the moment."

"Where's Dad?"

"He'll be home in a couple hours."

"What's he doing?"

"Errands."

We sat in front of the TV for a bit, not paying it much attention as we talked. I'm sure I covered things about university I'd already spoken about on the phone, but face-to-face conversations were different. She really did look proud of me. I even got my laptop out to show her some work, and my social science project sparked off a huge discussion.

My dad came home during it. His normally blank face lit up with one of his rare grins at seeing me. He pulled his gloves off, came over without saying a word, gave me a hug, and kissed my forehead.

"How was it?" Mum asked him.

"Same old shit," he replied. "Y'know, Vi, that town your uni is in, if you wan' a couple little jobs-"

"No. I'm too busy."

He blinked at me. "It's easy cash."

"I know, but I don't want to do any of that shit. I'm getting Romain tons of business through the students. Don't ask more of me."

"She don't need the cash, John," Mum teased. "She's got that rich boyfriend of hers."

I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, you've been with his family for a week? Gonna tell us about it?"

We moved into the kitchen to sort some dinner. I wasn't sure where to start. "They're not really what you'd expect," I said. "Well, I mean, big house, expensive cars. But they're really friendly. They were really nice to me."

"Probably because you kept your trap shut," Mum said.

I shrugged. I wasn't even going to dispute that. I had been pretty quiet most of the time. I tried to explain what David's mother was like, then his father. Then Hanna. They already knew about Wesley. I sat opposite Dad at the table, and decided to try something. I wanted to see if any of these names meant more to my parents than they meant to me.

"I met Darren Sörensen."

Dad's eyes shot up. He stared. There was a silence.

"Sörensen?" he repeated.

"Yeah. He's David's uncle."

Dad was giving me that look - his furrowed brow, sharp gaze, as if he was going to say he didn't believe me. Then suddenly he scraped his chair back from the table. "Keep that to yourself."

"What, wh-"

"Keep that to your fuckin' self." He got to his feet.

"Why? You know the name, huh?"

He scowled at me, and walked out towards the lounge. "That name has enemies."

He disappeared and I stared after him. Then I looked around at Mum. She had her lips pursed, but wasn't quite as unsettled.

"What enemies?" I asked her.

"It's hard to know, until you say it t' the wrong people. You know t' trust what your dad says."

I leant back in my chair. So I'd gotten a reaction, but wasn't sure if I liked it. The kind of thing that only gave me more questions instead of answers, and that drove me mad. I had to know things. I glanced in the lounge's direction again. "What's he so moody about?"

"Oh, it's same old shit." Mum sat down in the chair he'd left with a glass of whiskey. "You know what he's like."

"But what is it this time?"

"He's had to do body cleanup again recently. You know how much he hates those jobs."

I rested my cheek against a fist. "So what happened? What were his creative methods this time?"

"Oh, no. Wasn't very creative this time. Old classic." She took a sip of her whiskey. "Train tracks."

It only took me a few seconds. I gave the table a dull stare. Really?

Really?

Thanks for those three hour delays, Dad.

---