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"What exactly are you doing to handle it?"
Ophelia Martin was rarely home. Though when she was, the door to her father's study had always been locked shut, and he would go hours behind the white painted door without taking a step out into the real world.
Today, was one of those days.
Ophelia woke half past eight, outstretching her arms and almost immediately remembering the prior nights events. She had wanted nothing more than Rafe to spend the night with her, though bid farewell on her front porch, letting him spend the night at Topper's.
Rafe didn't want to make things more obvious then they had been - as far as Richard Martin needed to know, the boy her daughter hung around day in and out was still living at home - not kicked out on the streets with no place to go.
Rafey:
morning baby
come to the country club today?
fuck, I miss you
Ophelia sighed as she made her way down the stairs, hoping she would only have to face her mother, that was in the short time she would be home.
"Good morning, Ophelia." Her mother chirped from the open balcony doors, perched up in a fully cushioned chair, a half empty mimosa in one hand, a magazine in the other. "Morning, mom." Ophelia smiled lightly.
"You got in late last night." Isla Martin hadn't looked up from her lap, though Ophelia could sense the warm smile present on her tanned features. "I'm sorry." Ophelia cooed, despise the fact she knew her mother didn't care.
"I was with Rafe." Isla chuckled lightly. "I know, sweetie. Not a day passes that you aren't." Ophelia blushed, the mere thought of Rafe enough to send her heart fluttering. "I'm going to the Country Club."
Isla nodded swiftly, rising from her seat and pressing her lips to the top of her daughters head. "You tell those boys to come for dinner sometime soon." Ophelia nodded. "Sarah too."
Ophelia didn't have the courage to tell her mother she barely saw Sarah anymore. Although most of her time had been occupied by Rafe, she felt further from Sarah than ever, only wondering what she had done in her spare time, since it wasn't anything with the Martin girl.
Ophelia made her way back towards the stairs, though stopped dead in her tracks upon her father screaming through the other side of the door. As a child, Ophelia had always stopped to listen. Years later, nothing had seemed to change.
