PROJECTION || JJ MAYBANK

1. RECONNECTION

You walked up the steps of your dad's house and tried to open the screen door. It was unlocked, and with a shaky fist you knocked on the door.

It had been years since you'd last seen him. He knew you were coming, but that didn't seem to ease the thoughts running through your head.

Time seemed to stand still until the sound of locks clicking could be heard from the other side of the door. It opened inwards, revealing your father standing in the doorway.

"Hey," you said shakily. His eyes became glossy and you weren't sure what else to say. "Sorry I um...ran a little late."

"Psh...it's alright. You've grown so much," he laughed. "You look...well, you have your two front teeth this time around."

You laughed and took a good look at his features. He didn't look like the alcoholic your mom had made him out to be; but if she was any example, looks could be deceiving.

"I've lost the pigtails, too."

He gently noogied your hair and you rushed to flatten it out again, your nose wrinkling upwards.

He eyed your car and noticed the bags piled in the backseat.

"You want to unload to tonight or wait until the morning? I was thinking about taking you up to The Wreck, best restaurant on the island for breakfast tomorrow, since it's a little late."

"We can bring everything in tonight, if that's alright with you," you smiled.

He nodded and the two of you talked and joked back and forth naturally with each other. The few phone calls you'd shared had helped ease some of the awkwardness, but now there was little to be found and you were enjoying his company.

"How was the drive?" he finally asked. Typical dad question.

"Not too bad...getting out of the house was the hard part."

He frowned as he placed the last of your bags on the floor. His house was small from the outside but roomy, and very warm feeling. It was clean and neat, and smelled slightly of wood and old leather.

"I'm...sorry about your mother, I...I tried to get custody, but you know how she is—I don't mean to talk bad of her...I'm sorry, y/n. I know I haven't been there for you like I should, but she wouldn't ever let me see you, or call—"

"I know," you said sadly. "Same for you; she said you—" you stopped yourself and shook your head. "She made you seem like a bad guy, but I couldn't help being curious and then I called you, and you know the rest."

Tension left his shoulders as he sighed quietly. "I know she hasn't been fond of me for a long time, but...I hope I can change that."

His eyes got that glossy look again and your hands trembled at the thought of your dad crying over you. It broke your heart and sent shocks of anger through you.

"I learned to stop believing her a while ago," you smiled sadly. It lightened the mood and he led you to your room.

"I didn't want to move anything, in case she let you come back," he said. The room was a pretty beige color, which would've been fine if the wall hadn't been covered in princess stickers and pink curtains.

You laughed, taking in the sight of your childish-looking room. It wasn't ugly by any means, and if anything, it was just funny. It was exactly how you'd remembered it, down to the purple piggy bank on your dresser.

"What I'm trying to say is feel free to make any renovations you wish," he smiled. "Within reason," he added, a cheesy grin still plastered on his face.