Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong solely to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 3
"So, once I'm dressed like a pussy, I'm all set?" I ask.
"Umm, are you shitting me? That's only the beginning," My dad sighs. "You need to prepare for his interrogation."
"What do you mean?"
"The man is going to need assurance that you have future plans—that you'll be able to take care of his daughter."
"Oh, I take good care of her all right. In fact, just last night—"
"Can you be serious for five minutes? Lord. Sometimes, I swear we brought the wrong child home from the hospital."
"Jeez, Dad. Savage. Is Mom home? Maybe I should discuss this with her instead."
I love messin' with him.
"Cut the crap, Edward. Do you want my help or not?"
"Yeah. Proceed."
"Whatever you do, don't tell her dad what you want to do with your life."
"What? Don't tell him I want to be a rapper?"
He groans. "While you're at it, don't tell me that shit either. When he asks what your future aspirations are. . .lie."
I scratch my head. "Lie?"
"Lie, Edward. Trust me. No father wants to hear his daughter is dating a 10 Cent wannabe."
"It's 50 Cent," I say with a huff. The man is so out of touch. "And I'm not a wannabe; I'm the blueprint. There's only one Edickulous C."
"Holy hell. Just stop. Tell him you're studying music, and you plan to teach one day."
"Teach?" I think about it for a moment. That might work. I mean, the Chief is bound to be impressed if I tell him I want to inspire the next generation. "Yeah, that sounds good. Smooth, Dad."
"I don't normally condone lying, but in this situation, I think it's a must. Anyway, it's not too late for you to pick up a few education classes. It wouldn't hurt for you to have something to fall back on, you know, in case this pipedream of yours doesn't pan out."
"Nah, if that happens, I figure I can always live in your basement."