So it goes [Breakable Heaven #1]

31. Let's look for daddy dearest!

Jean and I haven't talked in two weeks. The day after our fight, I went back home late in the evening and I locked myself in my room, so she wouldn't come to talk to me, and I have ignored every single one of her attempts to confront me ever since. It's not easy to completely cut off the person I share the apartment with, and being this disconnected from my best friend hurts, but what happened that night made me so angry I think I still need some time to cool off. My mood, however, hasn't exactly been the best, and to make it worse, there's Father's Day I have to deal with.

I hate these festivities, because they're a reminder of what I've lost and what I've never had, and seeing my friends' posts for their dads on social media only makes me sadder. At school, we had a dedicated event today, with all the male students bringing their children in for a special lesson. I tried not to let it get to me, but I failed the moment I saw a man with his three-year-old daughter, a cute little blonde girl with pigtails that reminded me so much of me at that age. He was so loving with his daughter, looking at her with hearts eyes, and the little girl looking back at him in the same way, it made my heart clench. It triggered me, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since. I wonder if my father - had he been around - would have looked at me in the same way, if I would have been a daddy's girl, his little princess.

All these thoughts aren't coming from nowhere. I have had them my whole life, and that is why I know little bits and pieces about the man that was half responsible for my conception: I used to ask my mom about him, since I was very little. And of all the things I don't remember about my early years, those details I do. Lately, though, it's been like a fixed thought, something I can't let go of.

For this reason, there's only one person I feel like talking to today, even though she now knows what it's like to have a lovely daddy: Rachel. My oldest friend is the only one who can understand my feelings today, the one who I used to spend this day with when we were children, making up stories about the fathers we had never met. Rachel is also the only one who can help me answer the question that has been going on in my mind since I was at Jean's family home for Christmas.

I sent her a text to ask her if she could log in on Skype, and she immediately texted back her affirmative reply, without even asking me why I needed to talk to her. She knows, she just knows. So now I'm in front of the computer, waiting for Rachel's face to appear on my screen.

"Hey Bee," I greet her as soon as Skype connects us.

"Why hello, Brennan!" she exclaims.

"You look like you're in a really good mood," I notice.

"I am, Bee. I am."

I take a good look at my friend, and it's pretty clear why she's in such a cheerful mood. Her dark hair is a little disheveled, her skin slightly flushed, and the t-shirt she's wearing is obviously inside out, even though I doubt she has noticed it.

"Dude, did you just have sex?" I tease her, knowing fully well how the conversation is going to play out.

Rachel being Rachel doesn't disappoint and she immediately becomes a really bright shade of red.

"BEE!" she screams, hiding her face in her tiny hands.

"You did, didn't you?" I giggle, as I love making her blush like that. "Good for you, Bee. Good for you."

"I hate you," she pouts, but she can't hide a very satisfied smile.

"What the hell were you doing answering your phone while rolling in the hay with Quinn?" I then scold her. "You shouldn't have!"

She shrugs. "We were done anyway. Besides, I have a personalized ringtone for you, and you always come first, Bee."

"Don't let Quinn hear that, or she would start hating me."