"LAYLA GET DOWN HERE!"
I stopped curlying my eyelashes and looked in the mirror with wide eyes. Did I do something bad this week? I went back into my memory recaling the whole week. No. Then why is he yelling like a maniac.
I heard his heavy footsteps walking down the hallway, and they were getting closer to my door. My door swung open, revealing my dad. I stood up straight from my beauty chair and put on a innocent smile.
"What is this?" He shouted, shoving a wrinkled up paper in my face. My eyes went wide when I figured out what he was holding, "How did you find that? I crumpled it and threw it in the recyling bin." It was the letter Mr. Johnon sent and attached to it was were my current grades.
He crossed his arms. "So you were trying to hide this from us?!" He questioned, his voice getting louder.
I let out a groan, "Its not like that dad." I walked past him and to my closet, looking for my white nike sneakers.
"How are you failing English? You speak English!"
Everyone already knew who my dad was, the rich businessman who lost his wife in a tragic accident. God forbid I ruin his reputation with my terrible grades.
"DAD! I'm not smart like you, okay!" I shouted.
"You could be, everyone can be! If they just tried! I didn't raise you to be stupid. What would your mom think of your grades?"
"She's dead. So, nothing." I spat.
The full force of his right hand contacted my cheek, resulting in me falling to the ground in sheer pain. I looked up at my dad in desbeilef, holding a hold of my throbbing cheek.
"I want these grades up." He huffed and walked out of my room. I heard the door shut and his heavy footsteps become quieter and quieter, fading into the distance.
My phone buzzed on my bed.
Slowly I managed to get my body off the floor and I snatched my phone off of my bed, it was a text from Jason. He was asking where I was.
Right. I still have to go to his game.
X XX X XX
"Let's go, Ravens! Let's go!"
The cheerleaders chant, cheering and performing down on the sidelines of the football stadium. Facing the crowd in the bleachers, where each seat is full to the brim with football fanatics, family's, and adoring fans, they perform their routine. Throwing girls up into the air and energizing the crowed.
"I don't even know why I come to these things, I have no idea what going on." Jasmine huffs as I sit down next to her. Offering her a hot dog I had gone to buy, "Girl! You know I hate hot dogs, can you please go and get me some nachos?"
She dug into her purse and pulled out a twenty, "You can keep the change." She singed.
"Fine. Watch my food." I took the money and walked back to the food station.
I approached the food stand, "Can I have one large Nacho?" I said, scrolling through my phone.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" I automatically rolled my eyes when I heard Iris's annoying high pitched voice.
I dug my phone in my back pocket, "What are you doing here? What happened to the bald dude?"
"He went on break. So can you repeat your order. Because, you're holding up the line."
"Oh my bad." I mocked, "I.want.a.large.nacho!" I said slowly so she could understand.
She gave a me a sarcastic smile and I gave her one back.
YOU ARE READING
The Idea Of You
Teen FictionHe approached me, lifting his hand, tucking a curl behind my ear. "Layla, you are not leaving my sight until he's dead." He said his voice dangerously low. I stood there a whirl of emotions numbing me to the bone. This cannot be happening. Layla Cru...
