My Dad's College Friends - Cassandra Dee Page 0,3

pig! How could he do this to me?

Plus, how many other times has he cheated on me during the past year? Clearly, he and his stepsister have been intimate for a while now. Here I was thinking that our relationship actually meant something to both of us, while he was off playing games with another woman the whole time.

Pulling into my driveway, I slam the car into park before pounding on the steering wheel. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? God knows that no one is going to want a short, chubby girl like me. I was lucky to land Roger to begin with, and now, I have nothing. That thought seems to unleash the floodgates on my emotions as sobs heave through my body.

Curling into myself, I finally give myself the opportunity to truly grieve. Chest-wracking sobs make tears flood my cheeks like rain on a stormy day. Who cheats on their girlfriend like this? Who leads such a double life? Who the fuck sleeps with their future stepsister? I mean seriously, WHO DOES THAT? If Roger didn’t want to be with me all he had to do was say so. I would have been heartbroken, but I would have understood. Shit happens. But it didn’t have to be a clusterfuck like it is now.

None of that matters, however, because I’m sure as hell not going to stay with him after the BS I just saw. Pompous ass! Taking my phone out, I pulled up Roger’s number in my phone. I send him a quick text to tell him that we’re over. There are definitely some curse words in my rather rude message, but I don’t care.

Then, I go to all of my social media profiles to block him from contacting me further. Deleting his information from my phone is the last step to cut all ties with Roger. If I don’t exist to him, then he damn sure doesn’t exist to me. Once I finish, I lay my head on the steering wheel and cry, suddenly exhausted. Who’s going to want me now?

3

Amelia

Feeling like a zombie, I climb out of my car. For the first time, I notice that there are other vehicles in my driveway. Oh right. It’s my dad’s weekly Tuesday poker night with his old college friends. Great. I feel like shit, but now I have to smack a smile on my face for my dad and his poker buddies.

But it’s important to put on a show because who knows what Dad would do to Roger if he found out what happened? As much as I would love to see Roger get his comeuppance, I don’t want to see Dad end up in jail because of some dumbass high schooler.

Climbing back into my car, I begin the long process of fixing my face so that, hopefully, no one can tell that I’ve been bawling my eyes out. Thank heavens I placed an emergency makeup kit in my car. It just goes to show that you never know when it might be needed. Finally satisfied with the way I look, I climb back out of my vehicle and face the walkway up to the front door.

I try taking a few slow breaths to calm my nerves as I make my way to the house. Taking one last breath to center myself, I place a smile on my lips as I push open the door only to be met with a chorus of hellos from my dad and his friends. Sure enough, there’s Daddy with his buddies. There’s Old Joe, who despite being the same age as my father, appears to be about seventy or so. Then there’s Paolo from Italy, but he’s no Italian Stallion. No, Paolo looks more like Joe Pesci than Rocky Balboa. He can’t be more than five foot four, and even now, his short legs dangle from the chair.

Last, there are two of my dad’s college friends, Reese and Ryan. Now these men are no Joe Pescis. Both Reese and Ryan are tall, with imposing figures. They have wide shoulders and broad chests, with strong, powerful arms. They both have dark hair and bright blue eyes, and as I enter, they turn to look at me, making me blush unconscionably. Oh god, I hope I look okay. It’d be so embarrassing for Reese and Ryan to know what just happened to me.

I can feel my pulse racing in their presence and scold myself. I don’t know what I’m thinking;