Chapter Four

"Emmett, what are you doing?" I asked. He was at the stove, cooking something. He never cooked. Well, he did once, and ended up with a very long day that kept me sore hours afterward.

"Cooking, obviously. It's our 'anniversary'," he said like it was obvious. I just stared at him. He was dead serious about this, which is what scared me.

"You do know that couples who have broken up don't celebrate that, right?" I asked him. He looked at me like I was stupid. I was drunk, so that might be why.

"Rose, honey, our parents are visiting, remember," he said. I looked at him blankly for a few minutes before it clicked. A week ago we talked to our parents who said they were going to come visit us for our anniversary.

"And you couldn't have told me this sooner? Like, say when I was sober?" I said, panic rising in my voice.

"I thought it would be more entertaining to tell you when you got home. Though I was expecting you later. I can imagine that scene, you barging in drunkenly, our parents wondering why you went drinking on the one night they were going to come into town, it would have been priceless," he said, laughing to himself. "But you being drunk works just fine," he continued. The only thought I could understand was, "I need to change."

I went to my room to change, but couldn't find anything that I would wear in front of our parents. His parents were laid back in their style, and didn't like formal wear too much, and my parents hated sweats and a t-shirt. And yet, despite these character differences, they got along perfectly. They even paid some of the rent for this godforsaken apartment.

As soon as I found something all four people would like, I went to see what else Emmett could possibly be doing. Cooking really wasn't his specialty, and it was a miracle he hadn't started a fire already. It was also a miracle I could walk in a semi-straight line.

"Good timing. They're on their way up," he said, looking at me from the counter. He had a beer bottle in his hand, but went to exchanged it for a wine glass. Bastard.

"You're going to pay for this," I said in a low tone, glaring at him. He smiled and raised his glass.

"I hope so," he said, then took a sip from the glass. I was going to kill him. Which would probably turn into –

"How are you?!" I heard my mother practically yell from the door. I hadn't even heard it open. But she had always been sneaky. I smiled at her, hoping she wouldn't notice the fact that her daughter was shit-faced. My father was trailing her by a few steps with a small, knowing smile on his face.

"I'm good, mom, you?" I asked, putting my arms around her. She held me at arms length and looked at me in full. It was embarrassing, mainly because Emmett was doing the same while shaking hands with his father.

"Oh, you know, busy busy busy. Work's been busier as of late. I've been working with Bella a lot as well," she said, waving her hand and going off to say hi to Emmett. My dad came up and gave me a hug.

"Did you forget we were coming, darling?" he whispered in my ear. I couldn't help but laugh. He didn't miss much when it came to me.

"Yeah, and the jerk that is my boyfriend didn't think to tell me before I left," I said. He laughed as well, thinking I was just playfully calling Emmett a jerk, but only if he knew.

I shook hands with Emmett's father and hugged his mother. She had given him a bottle of wine, a common gift they gave us every birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Easter. Then we sat down and had dinner. Mostly our parents just talked to each other. Occasionally they would ask Emmett or me a question.

My mother was discussing some new house she was renovating, and everyone was engrossed in it. I, myself, needed a break. I stood up from the table, placing my napkin in my seat, and went to the restroom.

I locked my door to the bathroom and sat on the counter, happy to have a small cup in there. I filled it with water and took a sip. I loved my parents, but it seemed like they only ever talked about their jobs. My mother worked in architecture and my father worked at the bank. Exceedingly boring if you asked me, but my mother's job did allow her to work with one of my best friends, so that wasn't half bad.

I leaned my head back against the mirror and closed my eyes. I could feel my "after drinking nap" coming on. I was happy not to have work in the morning. I took another drink of water, and as I was going to put the half full cup on the counter a large hand tapped the bottom of it, spilling it on my shirt. Of course I had to be wearing a white shirt this evening.

I looked up at him slowly. I wanted death to be written in my eyes, but I didn't feel like I accomplished that too well. He was smiling like a five year old who had just been bought gum for the first time.

"I'm sorry, was that your last clean shirt?" he asked, faking sincerity. I continued to glare at him, and his smile widened. I wanted to take the glass and smash it on his head, but that set had cost me fifty dollars, and it had only come with two cups, so I decided against that.

"As I said before, you're going to pay for tonight," I mumbled, looking down at my shirt. Without the wet stain trailing down it now, it had been thick enough to not let my red bra with butterflies show through. Now anyone could take one look at it and see the details.

"Don't worry honey, I got your back," he said, disappearing in his room to get a shirt for me. He came bounding back in with a dark blue button up shirt. I took it from his hands roughly and waited for him to leave. But he didn't.

"Can I get changed in private, please?" I snapped at him. He only scoffed.

"You don't have anything I haven't seen before honey, so it doesn't matter," he said, making his way to the toilet.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice disgusted. I put the shirt he gave me on the counter and took my own off.

"Unlike you, I actually go to the bathroom to go to the bathroom," he said. I turned around quickly as he said that. He disgusted me. I put his shirt on and buttoned it quickly, then filled up my cup.

I walked over and spilled it on his jeans, knowing that all his other ones were in the washing machine. He looked at me like he was going to kill me with the water.

"Sorry, it was an accident," I spat at him. I put the cup on the counter and made my way to the kitchen. I had said I would make him pay for tonight, but now I was suddenly worried about what he would do to me.

So I was looking through all this... And the chapters vary in length. I don't even know how they vary, but some are short (I swear I've never written something as short as one of the chapters in this story) and others are uber long.. Anyway, please review. I know a lot of y'all have this story on story alert. I want feedback. I got feedback last time, and I updated this as soon as I had another chapter written, but if I don't get more you won't get an update until I've written two more chapters... Which could take a while, could not... You know what to do. :D