[Mrs. & Mrs. Smith] The best murder in the world

His father looked desperate.

"Okay, I'll take it," Dad said. "It's all right. You can leave the boy if you like. I mean, of course. I have nothing against it if you want to."

He looked at Mom, but the words were addressed to me.

Mom lowered her head and picked up the teacup.

I looked back and forth between the two strangely.

There is definitely a misunderstanding going on here that I don't know about.

I tried to explain: "Then what, I don't mean not to fall in love, it's just that the person is not necessarily the kind that we all generally recognize..."

Dad's expression became even more desperate.

I feel a chill down my back.

"I mean I don't like young..." I stammered on.

The teacup in my mother's hand burst instantly.

I immediately fell silent.

Dad hurriedly hugged his mother, and said dryly as if to comfort him: "The children and grandchildren have their own blessings."

Big beads of cold sweat slid down my neck and into my clothes.

03

Dad thinks I need adolescent counseling.

What I want to say is that I may need more social expression training.

This is the way the world is.You can't expect everyone to understand you, even if those people are your parents.

Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith sat in the cubicle outside the room, and I sat face to face with the smiling and friendly psychological counselor in the consulting room with light yellow walls for three hours, chatting away from the impetuous and boring school life. Seeing the new bad-sounding record released by the popular singer, I exchanged housework experience with the consultant by the way.

The consultant said: "Maybe you should try to make more friends of the same age."

"Okay." I replaced the right hand that supported my face with my left, and replied perfunctorily.

"Participate in more social activities..."

"No problem." I nodded repeatedly.

"Taking the first step is very important..."

"That's right." I fiddled with the fake bonsai on the table boredly.

"..."

"And then?" I asked.

"...WELL, would you like some juice or cocoa?"

I responded with a bright smile: "It's cool and white, thank you~"

The counselor got up and closed the door and went out.

I leaned back and leaned my back against the back of the chair.The chairs in the consulting room are upholstered for extra comfort.I took out the mobile earphone from my pocket and hung it on my ear, and pressed the switch button on it, and the counselor's voice came out clearly.

"...the loneliness of the only child, the child needs to join the social life and motivation of children of the same age, and if he is too calm, he may be slightly autistic. As a parent, you need to communicate with your child more. Family gatherings and appropriate short-distance travel can improve the child's mood. ..."

I licked my parched lips and turned off the switch.

Before leaving, when I passed by the counselor, I removed the tiny recording device that had been secretly attached to the counselor's clothes.After getting in the car, Dad told several jokes that were not funny at all in a good mood.Mom squeezed my shoulder: "Relax, Maggie. Nothing important, everything is fine."

Dad was steering in the cab, looking through the rear mirror: "How about we go to your grandma's for muffins this week, and then we go to the lake for a picnic?"

A family gathering like this hasn't happened in our house for over a year.Last Christmas, our family and my aunt's family went to Las Vegas for a short week.On the afternoon of the last day, I sprained my left foot because of speed skating with my cousin Oscar in a downhill competition. I also suffered a slight concussion from a fall. The non-stop vomiting all night made my mother panic.I had to stay in the hospital for two days in Las Vegas, and a group of people rushed back to New York on an early flight after applying medicine to a swollen injured foot.

The matter is not over yet.

Three days later, the skin on my feet developed dense red spots due to drug allergies, which soon turned into blisters.Because of this series of accidents, I asked for leave and did not return to school.Therefore, I missed the vigorous campus live broadcast, and in the end I could only learn about it online.

What big things can happen to our little high school.Isn't it that the relationship between Xi'an and Bilinda Parker was exposed.

A love story between a rich boy and a commoner girl.Everyone said that this is either true love or conspiracy.But pictures of Sheehan and Parker feeding each other in the school cafeteria appear to be intimate.Anna Lee, who had been raped by Parker, has now become a jealous woman who destroys other people's feelings.Xi'an's defense of Parker from time to time shows the stupidity of Li's methods.

...this fucking cheesy soap opera.

The tender and juicy red wine steak for dinner did not arouse my appetite at all.

"Look out, Muggy (1)." Cousin Oscar's greasy face reflected the fluorescent light on the video.

I quickly took a screenshot of this scene.

In fact, there is nothing to look at.I picked up the juice by the table and bit the straw habitually, so my speech was a little vague: "I just feel a little regretful."

"Do you like him?" Oscar asked.

"No." I denied, "he just has an admirably curvy butt."

I racked my brains to come up with some mean words to make me feel better: "And Bilinda, who should be called Bilin Rilla (2) now. She has barely developed since elementary school. I have no doubt that their hugs are like The pork chops are placed on a hard iron plate."

"Don't be like this, girl." Oscar sneered. "It wasn't pork chops a week ago. Do you remember what you said? Pudding, you said he was like pudding..."

I interrupted him: "This is impossible, such a disgusting adjective can never be said by me."

Oscar shrugged indifferently.

After this time, Oscar and I did not have any video chats on the Internet.Partly because I haven't been online for a long time.On the other hand, Oscar certainly has more important things to do than talk about life with his teenage cousin.For example, upgrading the security system that is said to be more impenetrable than a hacker's lair.

"Is Oscar there too?" I hugged the back of the driver's seat and asked Dad.

"where?"

"You said we were going to grandma's house."

"I don't know. But you can call him over."

I thought about it.Dejectedly leaning heavily on what to do.

"Forget it. He still has his graduation project."

"You can invite your classmates over." Dad said.

I didn't catch: "What?"

"Of course our family is happy for you to invite one or two classmates to go on a weekend vacation together."

I replied in a muffled voice: "Forget it. Dad, I don't have anyone I want to invite."

Mom suddenly turned to look at me.I looked up and made a face at her.

On the weekend, he ran as fast as a fugitive with pursuers behind him.

Monday morning.The feeling of being forced to wake up in the morning is like what Beethoven said-being strangled by fate.

I told my mother so.She turned and handed me a large glass of freshly squeezed juice.

"Do you think I just said that because the slices of bread are too choking?" I yelled dissatisfied, but I still didn't refuse to pick up the cup and take a big gulp.

Mom smiled: "I thought you were choking on the bread."

I was about to say something, and my father appeared out of nowhere behind me.The bench under my ass was kicked away by him, and while I fell to the ground in a posture with a broken tailbone, my father locked my legs with his knees, one hand held my left hand, and the other Hands strangled my neck.

=Dish=! ! !

Dad said with relief: "The reaction is good. The cup is not broken."

My eyes were dark from the pain, and tears rolled in my eyes.Of course the cup wasn't broken.But not a drop of juice was left on my coat.Her chest was wet.

"You're so annoying!!" I regained my strength, angrily pushed my dad away, put the cup heavily on the dining table, wiped away my tears and limped up the stairs.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that my mother had already picked up Dad's collar.

Back in my bedroom, I realized just how brilliant this morning's victory was.A large piece of fruit juice in the blue jacket exudes a fragrance, and the white shirt inside has obviously suffered.I didn't have time to put on clean clothes, so I ran to the bathroom in my underwear, found a basin and soaked my coat and shirt in the water.This mixed juice stains clothes and anyone who has dealt with it knows how good it is [bye].

When I put on my clothes again and went out, my father said goodbye to me guiltily with two newly-baked black eye circles, and I felt a little happier.

Monday means, math.

80.00% of the function classrooms are girls.Because our Teacher Function is a middle-aged man with a handsome face and well-developed chest and abdominal muscles who can be seen wearing a loose checked shirt.There are often girls who talk to him after class.Looks like it should be a topic of fitness.Sometimes this Mr. Finger talks about gym recipes to girls in tight T-shirts and short skirts.Just like how girls nowadays want to become strong women one by one.

Although I also appreciate older mature men.But definitely not the same age as my dad.

The most important thing is that this man still teaches functions!

Think of Namanuja, the car in which Hardy complained to the man lying on the hospital bed when he visited the hospital, the license plate number was 1729.

...I don't know what to complain about at all.

Hardy said: Dude, 1729 is such a boring number.

Namanuja said: Brother, you are wrong, this number, it is the first number that can be written in two different ways as the sum of the cubes of two numbers (12 cubed plus 1 cubed, 9 cubed plus 10 cubed).

Ah.Ah.Ah.Ah.Ah.

Hardy was a great mathematician.For some reason none of us know, he wishes never to see