Teddy's POV

I think I'm under a spell. I can't stop thinking about Georgia DeMarco.

Her blonde hair is tied in some kind of patterned scarf, like a headband, only less sturdy and more sexy. Her ears hold gold hoops with small diamond studs running up her cartilage. My eyes can't help but wander to her chest, which is covered by a sage green sweater. God, what I'd do-

"Earth to Theo," snapping fingers break my daydream. "C'mon, man. I'm starving."

"Eat a dick," I say with a lopsided grin. My hand pats his shoulder in a rough manner as I return my gaze back to the blonde I was previously admiring. Georgia has been on my mind for a while now, but I never knew how to tell her I was interested. My head turns at Isaac's muffled voice. "Huh?"

A groan leaves his pink lips in frustration. "Jesus, Grey." An arm wraps itself over my shoulders and pulls me toward the school's cafeteria. "You could get any girl at this school and you chose a goddamn DeMarco. Who isn't interested, by the way."

"How do you know that?"

"All these girls throw themselves at you. She doesn't." Isaac's tanned hand balls into a fist and lightly taps my temple in a knocking motion. "Use that dense noggin of yours, pretty boy."

Pretty boy. If anyone was to be called pretty boy, it'd be him. His Italian genes, his stature, his fashion choices... he was made to be the face of any Italian fashion designer. Versace automatically comes to mind. His dark features are what every girl loves, and Isaac definitely uses that to his advantage. Me, though? Pretty is the last thing I want to be deemed as. I'm destined to follow in my father's footsteps. I can't be pretty - I have to be something that people take seriously.

. . . .

"How was school?" Dad asks from across the table. His pupils switch between Phoebe and me in an effort to induce a response from someone. "I heard lacrosse practices are back in effect this weekend, Teddy." After your suspension, I know he wants to add.

"Theo." Why can't they remember to call me Theo?

He clears his throat as he continues. "Need fresh shoes or equipment, you think?"

My left shoulder rises in a shrug. Lacrosse was the last thing on my mind. "I dunno."

"You don't know?"

"No."

A utensil makes a light sound as it's placed on a dinner plate. I can feel his stare. "You should know, Teddy."

"Well, I don't." My eyes roll. It's a habit I can't break and I know too well how much he hates it. "And it's Theo, Dad."

"I'll call you whatever the hell I want to call you, Theodore. I'm your father."

I huff in frustration; fingers brushing through my already messy hair. "Yeah, I need some stuff. I can get it on my own, though."

"With what money?" my sister interjects. "You spent it all on that party, remember?"

Mom's eyes widen as she turns her head toward me. "What?"

Pheobe smiles proudly and nods. Time to throw me under the bus before I can mention anything she's done. "Oh, yeah. Teddy threw this party when you and Dad were out of town last weekend. Something about getting together with a girl or something."

I throw a piece of my sliced bread at her. "Shut. Up."

"We leave you alone for a few days and you go behind our backs?" Dad's voice is rising with every few words. If an overheated kettle was a person, it'd be Christian Grey right now. "We put trust in you to watch the house and your baby sister, and you throw a goddam party?"

"Christian," Mom warns with a subtle shake of her head. "Can you please...?" She always knows how to interject at the perfect moment. That's what I admire about her. I don't know how she puts up with him. Mom says I'm exactly like my father, but I can't see it.

"Nothing was stolen," I look away. The heat I feel from all their eyes is uncomfortable.

His hand slams on the table. "I don't care!" he yells. Silence fills the room. "We have rules for a reason, Theodore Grey. My son will not be a goddamn delinquent." I don't say a word. What am I supposed to say? "Look at me," his finger is pointed at me. "You will not embarrass this family. Over some girl, too? God, stop being an idiot, Theodore."

"Christian!" There's a silent, yet obvious, exchange between my parents before Dad inhales a deep breath and turns to Phoebe. They have a conversation full of smiles - possibly forced by him - and here I am, eating my mother's homecooked pasta in angry silence. I want to follow in his footsteps, but I don't want to be anything like him.

. . . .

I hear a knock at my bedroom door and look to see my mom's smiling face. It's not an I'm-happy-to-see-you! way, but more of an I'm-sorry-your-dad's-an-asshole way. "Hi," I greet from my bed.

"He's had a long day at work," she defends. I get it, though. I always knew his workload must be stressful, but he never talks about it.

"I know."

"He loves you, Teddy."

"I know."

Her feet move lightly toward my bed before taking a seat on the edge of it. "He just wants the best for you, that's all."

"He doesn't yell at Phoebe," I object. "Only me."

A sigh leaves Mom's lips. She probably wants to reject the statements I made but has no energy for another argument tonight. She also works hard and then has to make dinner for us and... "Get some sleep, okay? We can talk about it later."

I nod, hoping she forgets about all of it. I know Dad would kill for us. I just don't like how much pressure he puts on me. Nobody can be perfect one hundred percent of the time, can they?

Ahhh! I hope you guys like it!