Love, Hate and the Line

Chapter 9

After my English class, I took the bus downtown since I needed groceries. Stepping out of the bus, I admired the city that I'd lived in since I was four.

When we had moved here, it had been a small, suburban 'edge city'. There were lots of open spaces and playgrounds: all in all a beautiful place to grow up.

When I was six, however, a major company relocated here. Following the company, its rivals moved here as well and with that, a lot of employees. In no time, the small town transformed into a buzzing city, the center dominated by business buildings.

Many people were reluctant at first, thinking that all these companies and all the buzz would destroy the peace and quiet this town was known for, but it turned out very well as a lot of employees had families of their own. The city center of Serenity Falls became the place to be, with skyscrapers, huge malls and clubs, while children could grow up peacefully in the suburbs.

The only downside to all of this was the fact that there were substantial social-economic differences between the people who lived here originally and the, usually a lot richer, fancy executives that moved here.

I walked for a bit through the posh part of time, all the while admiring the beautiful houses there. Eventually I entered the cool supermarket where I bought the ingredients for chicken parmesan. My stomach churned as I reached the counter to pay, hoping that the credit card my dad and I had for groceries would be accepted. Thankfully, it worked and I made my way home.

The whole time, I tried not to think of Ben. I was pissed off big time at his rude behaviour, but for some reason I couldn't stop thinking about his chiseled features, his eyes that had darkened (probably in annoyance) when he had laid eyes on me, his broad shoulders, the defined muscles apparent through his shirt. I mentally slapped myself for swooning over the way he looked and forced myself to think of something else.

When I reached home, I saw my dad's car outside. I frowned, as it was only five thirty and he usually wasn't home by seven.

I fiddled with my keys, trying to balance the grocery bags in my arms while opening the door and I stepped inside.

"Hey honey," my dad greeted, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as he smiled.

"Why are you home already?" I asked curiously.

"I got off early," my dad replied, "so I thought I'd cook dinner tonight."

I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach.

"Hey," my dad grinned in mock-offense, "don't make fun of your old man!"

I wiped my tears away. "I'm sorry, I just imagined Ed Samuels in an apron."

"Well, I'll have you know that I make an excellent steak."

I arched an eyebrow. "Too bad I bought stuff for chicken parmesan then."

My father shrugged. "Chicken, steak, potato potâhto."

The rest of the night went on like this. My brothers came home and we were joking, laughing and making fun of each other. When David was put to bed, Jake, Cam and my dad had a beer while I drank a warm cup of tea.

We laughed some more, then became serious to discuss David's health and the money problems, and then continued to make fun of each other.

It had been the first time in years that we'd felt like an actual family and later that night, when I went to bed, I slept like the baby for the first time since my mom died. Downside? I dreamt of a certain dark-haired hazel-eyed guy.

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The next morning played out like all others. I showered and washed my hair with my fanciest, nicest-smelling shampoo. Feeling scrumptious, all 'coconutty and vanilly', I hopped on the bus and made my way to school, listening to Johnny Cash on my way there.