"Order up," the cook said as I hustled to the hot plate and began to serve the umpteenth customer of the lunchtime rush at Sweet Peony Bakery and Cafe, a hotspot for all the teens and locals of Berkeley.

It was now Saturday and I was currently doing double-duty as the dishwasher AND the waiter, the latter more so to test my people skills as instructed by dear old Dad. And after the events from the past week (especially last night when Marcel and I locked lips, which would leave me with more questions about him), I knew that this was more of a game to see if I could keep my opinions to myself and give Brian and Lisa York the performance of a lifetime if I wanted to have some freedom to do what I wanted, hanging out with the Outcasts and getting the information of what's going on here in particular.

"Here you go, good sir," I said to an elderly war veteran as I served him his order of clam chowder and gave him a warm smile. "How you enjoy your meal today here at Sweet Peony Bakery and Cafe."

"Thanks, sonny," the old man said, giving me a toothy grin.

"Hustle, Kyle," I heard Dad intone as he, Mom, my grandparents, the Dermotts, and Rory and his brood were holding court at a private booth as they watched my every move. "Service with a smile."

I am hustling, you dipwad, I wanted to shoot back, but instead giving him a silent nod and a smile as I waited on more and more tables. And it didn't help much to hear Dad make every comment about what I was doing.

"You're smiling too bright, son. You'll scare them away."

"Make sure to be extra accomodating."

"Not good enough of a greeting, son. Add some pep to that voice."

"The way you're presenting yourself to the customers makes me thing that you're not being a team player."

And it made things more worse when the customers started to get more and more youthful as more of Marcel's friends and the other social circles started to get more demanding.

"Can you make my coffee again, York? This time, more heat and less cream."

"I wanted mayo on one side of my sandwich and mustard on the other."

"More chips, please! Keep them coming!"

"This muffin's too soggy, Kyle. Bring me a fresh one, one that's right out of the oven."

All I could do was grit my teeth, bite my goddamned tongue, and bear with the demands as Grandma and Grandpa gave me sad yet comforting smiles to help me get through it all.

It was finally time to wind down as the last of the lunchtime diners took their repose, leaving me to clean up the tables and wash up the dishes. "You did good, Kyle," Rory said as I finished washing the last of the plates. "It can get a little demanding here during the weekends, but you're really starting to get into the groove around here."

"Well, Dad didn't make it easier with his comments and criticism," I admitted. "But I managed to keep my mouth shut and just followed the rules of customer service."

Rory grinned, crossing his arms. "Hey, the diners are always right and all we can do is make them happy," he replied. "Anyway, once you finish up with cleaning everything, meet us in the dining area."

I only nodded while the sounds of Zayn and Sia emanated from the sterero outside.

Fifteen minutes later, I was back in the dining room and greeted by the gang. "Well, son, it looks like you did alright for a waiter and dishwasher," Dad commented, "but I'm still not sold on you being a team player."

"What?" I groaned. "Come on, Dad. I gave you guys what you wanted and I did all that you asked me to."

"But it's still not enough," Mom pointed out. "I can sense a bit of resentment in you because you feel like it's getting too much right now. And it's the reason why we can't let you near those nobodies and keep you on a tighter leash."

"Come on, now," Grandma said to her daughter. "Kyle's all but running out of steam with too many demands you all pile on him. He needs to be his own kind of teenager."

"No. Kyle needs the right kind of people who can break open his hardy and cynical personality," Dad rebutted sharply. To me, "And unless you want to remain under my harsh hand, you'll start getting with the program, especially tonight at Miss Lita's house for a dinner party."

"Dad, I-"

"Save it," Dad interrupted. "You know, it sickens me how I managed to have three children with aspirations for them to fall in line yet you managed to remain this stubborn little shit. Your sisters got with the program and became thriving young women who can dominate any social ladder with little effort. You? You're this runt who hates everything and anything that doesn't fall in line with the times. I'm  sorry, Kyle, but you're not going to be with Miss Telfair or those other nobodies for as long as you're under my roof. I'm being harsh on you because-"

"You want the best for me," it was my turn to cut him off. "I get it, Dad, but I am trying."

"Well, try harder!" Andrew demanded, he and his husband staring me down. "You got a lot of potential, yet that mindset of yours is still hanging around you. I mean, what is it that keeps you from seeing the truth that you want to ignore?"

It was time to come out and say it. "It's because that you all will continue to treat me like shit until I become your clones," I spat back. "I can give you all of me and the whole world on a silver platter, yet you can slap me out and demand more and more. No matter what I say, what I wear, or be with the people that you want me to speak to, it'll never be enough because I am the one that sticks out like a sore thumb."

"Thank you," Grandpa said.

Dad pounded his fists on the table, standing up abruptly. "That's too bad, Kyle, because there are two kinds of kids in the world- the ones who fall in line and the ones who break the system. And only one kind of kid will be worthy to be seen as a success in my eyes. The obedient and jet-setting kid who doesn't hang out with the riff-raff."

"Brian," Mom said, giving me a cautious glance.

"No, Lisa. I mean it. Kyle isn't the one to break easily unless I have to," Dad said, sneering at me. "No matter how hard I can polish him up or throw designer labels on him, he's always going to be this hater who kills any vibe. And to be honest, I should've made you abort him so none of this will be wasted on such a pathetic, naysaying bitch.

"But since it's too late for that, I can at least try to make him fall in line the hard way. Starting right now, he is to be under the severest watch: no nobodies, no access to his old life in Oakland, and a strict schedule that he's to follow. He'll be with the Dermotts and their friends, attending all of his classes, sitting with them at lunch, and will attend every gathering under the sun," Dad intoned. To me, "And if you even think about defying me, I will make sure that you wish that you haven't."

I finally found my voice. "You really hate me that much to try and break me down so I can be your little bitch?" I said.

"I hate you more and more each day," Dad responded honestly, a look of disgust in his brown eyes. "I wish for thunder and lightning to kill you."

"Mr. York," Marcel said, noticing the tense atmospehere. "Kyle is doing everything right, and I make sure that he gets with the program."

"Yeah, but it's not enough, Marcel. You're the son that I wished that I could have," Dad said, the comment making me lose more and more respect for him. "Hell, I kind of hope that you can be the one to beat some sense into Kyle or at least make him your husband and train him properly."

The jock gave me an ominous look that morphed into a smirk. "And what if I told you that he and I kissed last night and admitted that I was falling for him?" he asked.

Son of a fucking bitch, this bastard isn't doing what I think he's doing.

Dad's sneer turned to a look of confusion. "Wait, you mean that you two-" he started before smirking back at me. "Well, this could change things. Kyle, did you and Marcel kiss?"

I took a deep breath, not knowing what else to do or think. "We did," I replied. "Granted, it was all unexpected and-"

Dad chuckled lowly. "There might be hope for you yet," he drawled, no mirth in his voice. "You're still under watch and all, but I'm willing to make a few leeways and maybe allow you to be with those riff-raffs after all. But under one condition."

"And that is?" Grandpa asked, glaring at my father.

"Simple, Daddy," Mom commented, giving her father a wide grin. "Kyle will be going steady with Marcel as boyfriends. And pretty soon, they'll be getting married."

"WHAT?!" Grandma and Grandpa bellowed angrily, me remaining silent while waiting for the earth to swallow me whole.

In times like this, there was only one thing left to do. "I accept," I said firmly.

"Then we have a deal," Dad said. "You're free to do whatever you wish tonight, but starting Monday...you're with Marcel and fulfilling my every request."

I only nodded as I took off my work apron and bolted outside just before seeing Tamarious driving down the street and stopping at the curb. "Kyle?" he said as he rolled the windows down. "Dude, are you-"

"Can you get me out of here?" I interrupted, on the verge of tears as Grandma and Grandpa rushed outside. "And can my grandparents tag along? Have I got some major news for you."

That caught his attention. "Hop in," he said, unlocking the passenger doors as my grandparents climbed inside the SUV before the teenager pulled away from the bakery and cafe. "What the hell is going on?!"

"First, gather your troops," I instructed. "And get Mavis Telfair as well! I need your help." And that was far from the truth. This day right here has gone from zero to nightmare no thanks to Brian York and Marcel Dermott. I'll never forgive them for this, ever!

Hot damn it to hell, this story is starting to get more and more chaotic by the minute! And if you're hating Kyle's dad like I am right now for saying what he said, demeaning Kyle's character, then feel free to drop some hate mail on his ass!

Anyway, we'll see Kyle and his grandparents get to know the starting lineup of Outcasts in the next chapter as they work on a plan to not only expose the Beautiful Teens but ruin Kyle's dad completely. But little do they know is that there's more than what meets the eye!

Dedication: Lyfeo_M_Jay. Song: "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day.

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