"This isn't you Cade." My voice is small.
I don't know if I'll ever understand why he suddenly changed, but I'm grateful he did. Whatever happened to him is a benefit to what is happening to us right now.
Cade tucks the strands of my hair that fall...
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I brush my deep brown hair that stops below my boobs, giving it a little ruffle at the front before being finally satisfied.
I decided to go without my hoodie today, leaving a black crop top that hugs my chest and brown vintage high waisted boyfriend jeans, pairing them with Nike.
I finish off with my three favourite pair of necklace, which the last stops between my cleavage.
Yes! I have cleavage.
I take my car keys from my table, along with my backpack before walking out of my room.
Knowing my parents are awake, I yell, "bye Parents!" heading straight to the front door. I was about to twist the knob when my Dad's voice stops me.
"Where'd you think you're going to without eating breakfast?" I let out a loud groan, retreating my steps to the kitchen.
I plump myself down on an empty chair around the square shaped dining table. I stretch my hand to grab the plate of freshly made waffles.
"You hate school anyway, why are you in such a hurry?" My Dad questions again, seeing my fake downcasted expression.
"Because there's something called being late Dad." I point out, shoving a fork-full of waffle drowned in maple syrup into my mouth.
He waves me off. "You look nice." My Mom compliments with a smile on her face.
I smile at her in response, "yeah she does." We both turn our head to my Dad at his addition.
A scowl quickly replaces his soft smile. "Although I prefer her with her hoodies instead." I give him a questioning look, while my Mom chuckles.
"I don't want all those horny teenage boys.....or girls---" he winks at me, "looking at my baby's goodies." I scrunch my face into disgust.
"Jesus Dad!" He laughs at my traumatized face.
"Firstly, I'm straight." Just to clear that out.
"And secondly, they can only look but not touch." I say proudly and my Mom voices out, "that's right," and gives me an high five in support.
With the small top I'm wearing and my full boobs which I inherited from my Mom, they are displaying themselves gracefully out of the low neckline of the top.
Why have boobs if you can't show them off?
I then turn to my Dad, my trauma by what he said undoubtedly written on my face.
He narrows his eyes at both of us and I say, "but still don't call my boobs goodies or anything Dad. It's so weird." I shake my body, still feeling his words like cold. He laughs in response.
After having an eventfully morning with my parents, I finally left for school.
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