“YOU GOING home for Thanksgiving?” I asked Daisy, pulling up to her house.
“Actually, no, my parents are coming here this year,” she answered, stretching her legs out on the floorboard. "Is your mom going to be home?"
Daisy and I had started a friendship after the whole party/ dry humping/ crying debacle. We didn't necessarily hang out with each other on our free time, but our arguments had turned into conversations and tiny jokes during our car rides and Health. I enjoyed my friendship with her, and as much as I was attracted to her, I hooking up with her was a bad idea. It would fuck up everything we had built the last month and I liked having her around. I didn’t want Daisy to end up hating me in the end.
"Eh, I wouldn't count on it," I shrugged, making it known I didn't give a shit. "I usually just chill out at home or go over to Lane's."
"But isn't he going to Cora’s'?"
"I think so," I said, my voice flat. "So I'll probably just hang at home."
"What about your dad?" She rushed out quickly. The fact that she was curious about him didn't surprise me. What did surprise me, though, was that she hadn't already heard all of the rumors about my family already.
I let out a hard laugh. "Even if I knew who the arrogant asshole was, I wouldn't count on him inviting me over for a holiday dinner." I stopped asking my mom about my dad years ago after she finally made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her or me.
"Why don't you come over and have dinner with us," she said, blowing out a breath suddenly. "I know that my aunt and uncle wouldn't mind. For some weird reason, they actually like you."
I chuckled. "Funny little shit, you are. Everyone likes me, including you. But it’s okay, you don’t have to admit it." She smiled. "Thanks for the invite, but it's cool," I answered, brushing off her invite. I hated having people feel sorry and pity me. Sympathy invites weren't really my thing.
I had surpassed the point where I cared who my dad was, deciding I was better off without him anyways. The asshole had been absent my entire existence, so I wasn't waiting for him to step up to play father of the year anytime soon.
"You're coming," she insisted. "Consider it payback for all the rides and calorie ridden drinks you bring me."
I squeezed out a fake smile. "I'll think about it."
"Please," she stressed, clutching her tiny hands together.
"Okay, fine," I gave in, rubbing the back of my neck, unable to resist her cute begging. I could find a way to back out later.
Her eyes twinkled in triumph. "You promise?"
I nodded. "I promise."
"I take promises very serious, Keegan." With that, she opened up the car door and disappeared down the drive.
“KEEGAN!” SOPHIA screeched, opening up the front door. “I was sooo happy when Daisy said you were coming!” After internally debating whether to show up or not, I caved. I didn’t owe her anything, but her words kept burning into my brain. I take promises very seriously.
My original plan had been to grab some Chinese takeout. Those places were always open on Thanksgiving. It wasn't the first time I had spent the holiday by myself and I was positive it wasn't going to be the last, either. The only time I had ever had a real Thanksgiving dinner was when I would go over to Lane’s. Even though he was going over to Cora's this year, I knew if I told my aunt I had nowhere to go, she would prepare some huge ass meal just for me and I didn't want her to stress over it.
Lane's mom, my Aunt Madeline, might have been my mom's sister but they were both on completely different ends of the parenting scale. My aunt was like one of those moms you saw on a family show while my mom could have her own Lifetime Movie made based on her life. Layla Hudson should have been banned from ever being able to procreate. The woman could hardly take care of herself, let alone a damn kid. She didn't have one maternal bone in her underweight body. The only reason she didn't abort me was because I was a paycheck to her. She gladly decided to share this with me on one of her drunken binges when I was ten.
Our house, our cars and the majority of her designer handbags were all benefits of giving birth to the bastard baby and keeping her big mouth shut about it. Sure, she made money from her "movies" but it wasn't anywhere what our monthly allowance was from my sperm donor. Thanks, asshole.