"Good morning," said my mother, walking in. I glared at her as I tried to sit up, leaning against the headboard and rubbing the side of my temple. This was going to leave a bruise.
I could see Darius from the corner of my eye, looking just as surprised as me. I glared at him.
If he had just let me go, we could have avoided this awkward moment. My mother, oblivious to the tension, walked in carrying a tray of food and placed it near the foot-board and smiled at us as she folded her hands.
"I hope you guys had a nice sleep. The ducted heating must have switched off or something. It was rather cold," she said, the smile never wavering from her face.
I glared at her. Somehow, I had a feeling that our parents were up to something and they had switched it off on purpose. Oh god, this was embarrassing.
"Have some breakfast and get ready. We have something planned for today." With a wider smile and one last look at us, she turned and walked, elegantly, out of the room and closed the door. The second she was gone, I dropped onto the bed and pulling the blanket higher. The bed seemed hard and uncomfortable, but I'd rather stay here than face a day planned by our 'lovely' parents.
Coming down the stairs a while later, I wasn’t in the best of my moods.
Not only did I wake up on the wrong side of the bed, literally, but all five of them were staring at me smugly. All the parents up to something, and Darius just being Darius.
"Took your time," he muttered quietly as I came down and I shot him a look. Not any look, but the look. It was his fault I had a massive bruise on the side of my head that was a horrible color of purple.
I just loved how our parents took up all the seats, forcing us to sit next to each other. Were they playing cupid or something, or did they not realise they already got us married so it's not exactly like we need help. Right?
"We have a brilliant day planned," said my mother, eyeing me carefully. I could get two things out of that look. One, she hated my outfit. And hey, I actually wore a pretty decent dress when I could have kept my pajamas or jeans on. Two, it said, “be on your best behaviour.”
"What’s this great plan, then?" I said, earning a look from my mother and smile from my father. Oh, it had been ages since I had seen them.
"Why, a charity event, of course!"
"A what?" asked Darius and I at the same time.
"We have planned a small women's club where you both will volunteer today and give out cupcakes and meet people. This will be your first date as a couple!" said Darius's mother. I should really stop calling her that and start calling her by her name, Michelle. But I kept forgetting.
I exchanged looks with Darius as our parents got up and we stood up as well.
"Go on,” mother said, shooing us, “we have selected clothes for you. They're in your room. Go change so we can go."
I groaned in protest as I headed back upstairs.
Walking into the room – I mean the master bedroom – I looked at the dress on the bed and stopped in my tracks while Darius let out a loud laugh.
"There is no way I am wearing that!" I protested, but somehow I felt that I have no choice.
Chapter eighteen
Darius broke into a loud laugh, even bending over as he grabbed his stomach, and I glared at him. I tried to ignore how addictive his laugh was as it echoed in the room.
"Shut up," I snapped, looking over at his normal every day suit placed over the chair. Why did he get to wear normal clothes? I walked over to the bed, wrinkling my nose in disgust as I lifted up the hideous bright pink dress and turned it around in my hands. I knew it.
My mum did this on purpose.
Darius looked up and turned around, still laughing furiously.
It looked like a dress that stepped out of a cupcake factory with the five shades of pink everywhere. It had hideous puffed up sleeves that had a tight elastic near the elbows and was ankle length with matching white and pink socks and pink belt and shoes.
The bodice was a white square with the five shades of pink splattered over it and there was a bonnet to complete the look.
"There is no way I am wearing this."
I wore it.
The fact that Darius was trying not to burst out into laughter was just making me hate him even more. He must have found me, in my pink gown, very funny.
He, on the other hand, got to wear a normal black suit with a black tie. Not even pink. It was black and damn he looked fine. It just wasn't fair!
And then there was me dressed like a five-year-old holding a basket filled with pink cupcakes to finish it off.
"Come on," said my mother, grabbing my arm and tugging me behind her. I looked over my shoulder to see Darius start laughing again and I glared at him.
Oh, I will get my revenge soon, very soon. As soon as we stepped into the massive backyard of the community centre, we were ambushed with people in pink. It was like all the pink in the paint shop ended up in here. Only my mother can manage to wear a hot pink ankle-length dress and look good while the rest of us wore apron and cowboy mixed dresses.
"Can I have another piece?"