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Chapter 5 - Parents

I was leaning on his doorframe, when his father came down the hallway. "There's my future daughter-in-law. You two doing 'history?' You know, that was my favorite subject in school," he winked at me.

His father was insane and nice at the same time. I didn't know what to make of him, but I figured it would be best if I was polite. "We really do have a project. We're working on the dining room table today."

He looked at me concerned. "Just be sure to center over the middle support, that table has never been the same since Nessie. It's fitting that my first grandchild be conceived in the same place as my kids were." He turned and walked away, ignoring my utterly shocked face.

Marcus hurried up the hall, when he saw his father had stopped to talk to me. "What'd he say?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't think I want to tell you, either."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're not messing around on the table," I answered firmly and led the way to the dining room.

"So where do you want me to put this?"

He had a roll of stiff white paper under his arm. It looked to be about as tall as a standard poster board, but wider. "Just set it out on the far side of the table."

He stood it on end and held it, so it wouldn't unravel. "I don't think it's gonna fit here. Maybe if we move some pictures, or better yet, the chairs. We can do it on the floor," he gave me his troublemaking smirk.

"Well, how big is it?" It couldn't have been bigger than the table. The way he had it rolled up made it look like it should have fit across the end of it.

"Ten feet." He moved some chairs around, and then he let the roll spring open across the floor.

"How'd you get it so long?"

"I was born that way." I didn't look amused. "I got the width of a poster board and just cut the roll straight. You can't leave jagged edges, it'll lead to trouble." He smoothed it out and started to lay clusters of pictures out. I had put them in stacks chronologically, and as he laid them out, I got the perfect idea for our project.

"A narrative timeline, you're a genius! We can have the pictures all displayed in chronological order, with a small summary about each one under it! This poster board is perfect!" I kissed his cheek, and he pulled me into his lap. His mouth attacked mine. Why was he so damn easy to get lost in?

I didn't know what happened, but next thing I knew, his mother was looking down at us, smiling as she shook her head. "Marky, let the girl up. You're never going to get this project done if you keep distracting her like that."

I shoved him off at lightning speed, scooting way from him. "I can't believe…" I couldn't believe a lot of things, like how he could distract me so fast, how one kiss could blow into full-on dry humping on the floor, or that once again, we had been caught by his mother. I wiped my mouth and made sure my clothes were in place.

Marcus walked over and reached a hand out to me to help me up. My face was so red hot, I was sure it would explode. The ass smirked, like it was hilarious that I had been humiliated by him yet again.

He yanked me against his body as he helped me up, and I promptly shoved him away. "You stay over there, on that side of the table," I ordered causing him to laugh.

"Christ, Marky, leave the girl alone, she's actually trying to get some work done."

"How am I supposed to help from over here?" he complained as he took his place on the far side of the table.

"You hand me the pictures I want with tape on them. I'll put them on the poster over here."

I ignored his pout and grabbed the second roll of tape. I went to work, attaching the first stacks of pictures that were already laid out. I felt his eyes boring into me, and I'd admit that I might have knelt on the floor with my ass in the air as I worked, because he really had me wanting to make out again before we went our separate ways. There were plenty of quiet places between here and my house, far away from his parents.

I moved down the poster carefully, making sure there'd be plenty of space to attach the part of the report that went with that grouping of pictures. Marcus put tape on each set of pictures and pushed them to the edge of the table to be placed on the poster by me.

I taped the last picture to our project and stood up, very pleased with myself. "All done, this is so amazing. It'll be an easy 'A.'"

I hadn't realized it, but his mother was in the doorway, smiling at us. "Let me get a picture of you two holding up the banner."

She rushed off before we could answer, and Marcus had me up against him the moment she turned her back to us. "Don't think I didn't notice you waving that little ass of yours at me." He gave it a good pinch. "You want it bad, don't you?"

I answered by kissing him. He ground into me hard. "Once were done here."

"Not here, not with your parents," I barely breathed out.

He went straight to attacking my neck, holding my hips hard against him with one hand, and the other was in my hair to help give him leverage to move me where he wanted to kiss me.

"Boy, don't make me hose you down," his mother snapped me back to reality.

"What, I let her finish the project. All the pictures are on," he defended with a smirk, while I tried to squirm out of his arms. I finally got away, gave him a glare, and let out a huff.

"Enough, Marky, hold up the poster, I've got to get a picture."

"What do we have here?" his father walked in.

"They just finished their poster!" his mother squealed.

"Poster for what?" he asked looking it over.

"The history project!" she snapped at him.

"It's real?" He really did sound surprised.

"Yup, and we're done," Marcus sounded very pleased with himself.

"Look at my boy. He's got a brain in that head after all." He messed up his son's hair and stepped back. "Get a picture of this, baby, it's amazing." He moved back, pinched his wife's ass, and pulled her in front of him. They took several different pictures of us with our poster. You would've thought it was graduation or prom.

My cell phone rang with my mother's ringtone, and I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, it's my mom. I have to take it."

They waved me off, and as I moved out of the room, they descended on Marcus, congratulating him on the history project that actually existed.

They were crazy, but the kind of crazy that was sweet.

"Hey, Mom." I wondered what kind of mood she'd be in.

"Where the hell are you? Your father's going to be here in twenty minutes, and I don't have a damn thing to drink. You need to take my ID down to the corner store and pick me something up to get me through dinner. I don't know why that damn bastard even bothers to come home anymore."

She just hung up on me, and I did my best to hold myself together. I didn't know why I felt so upset. I was used to her calling and asking me to bring her something to drink. I didn't know why it suddenly bothered me so much. I took a deep breath and turned around. I was met with three solemn faces. "I need a ride home, please." My eyes hit the floor. I couldn't stand to see their disappointment. It didn't matter if I was a good Italian girl. If my parents were fucked up, I was sure they thought I was, too.

"Yeah, let me get the poster rolled up," Marcus broke the silence.

I just nodded and loaded my backpack as fast as possible. I was surprised when his father walked in and set down a large bottle of wine in front of me.

"So, I guess there's no denying you heard that," I mumbled.

He just squeezed my shoulder. "It's fine. We can't control how our parents act towards each other."

His mother set down another bottle and pulled me into a hug, causing me to burst into tears.

"I'm sorry," I cried. "I know my family's messed up, but I'd really like to still be Marky's friend."

"Oh, baby girl, you're far from messed up. You're so good for our boy." She stepped back cupping my cheeks. "He did a history assignment, you're not messed up. You're a miracle worker."

We all burst out laughing.

Marcus took my bag from me and carried the poster. I carried the bottles his parents had given me.

The drive was quiet, and when he pulled up, he got out of the car, making me freak out. I really didn't want him to meet my mom. She was mostly sober, and that meant she was extra bitchy. "You don't want to meet my mom."

"Are you ashamed of me?" He looked hurt.

I glanced at my door. "She's just not a very nice person."

He smirked, "Isabella, you do know my last name is Volturi, right? I know how to deal with not nice people."

I felt stupid. "Fine, but you can't put a hit out on my mom when she pisses you off."

I opened the door, and wasn't two steps in, before my mother started yelling. "What took you so long? Your asshole of a father will be here any minute, and I don't have a damn drink. How the hell am I supposed to stand listening to his obnoxious voice?" I came around the corner, so she could see me. I held out the bottles to her. "Jesus, how the hell did you get this? Did Sal let you get them without my ID?"

"No, my parents wanted to send a thank you to your family. Isabella has been helping me with my history class. I'm Marcus Volturi." He reached out a hand for her to shake, and she glared it.

"Volturi? I know about you!" she shouted. "What the hell is he talking about?" I really hoped she wasn't going to do anything stupid. "You better stay the hell away from that boy. He's a Volturi, Bella. He'll get you in trouble, or killed!"

"Mom, he's my friend. We go to school together."

"Nonsense, you go to a good Catholic school. They don't let the likes of him there. Are you his dirty whore? They don't settle down, Bella. Even after they have a wife, they have a goomah. That's what you call it, isn't it?"

"Ma'am…" Marcus tried to cut in, but she wasn't having it.

"What, you want to screw me, too? Why the hell not." She snatched the bottles out of my hand and took off into the kitchen.

I heard the front door close and knew my father was home. We turned to see him come down the hall. He looked Marcus up and down. "Who's this?"

"He's my history project partner, Marcus Volturi."

My dad flinched when I said Marcus's last name. He shook his head at me and walked away, not saying a word to either of us.

"So, that's my family. You should probably go, before they decide to yell at you, instead of each other."

I would swear it was like it had been planned, the way they started shouting at each other, as if on cue.

"It's my house, why the hell shouldn't I come home! I pay for every damn thing in it, even your fat lazy ass!" my father retorted to something my mother had said. I shoved Marcus out the front door to muffle my mother's reply.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about them," I pointed over my shoulder.

Marcus frowned, "Why would I say anything?"

"My parents were very…they were terribly rude to you. I'm sorry."

He pulled me into his arms. "I get it now. I thought you were crazy, standing there watching my parents fight with a smile on your face. I figured you were fucked in the head, but your ass is hot, so I didn't mind." He gave me a good pinch to prove his point. "I get why you were smiling." He leaned down and kissed my lips, much softer than he ever had before. There was no sexual tension. It was so damn confusing. "I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled, and then took off in his car.

I sat down on the front porch and waited for things to quiet down. I hoped my mother would get too drunk to argue soon and maybe even pass out. My dad would bury himself in the TV then with his beer, and neither of them would remember I even existed. I knew that sounded horrible, but that was just the way life worked at my house.