John Bs Daughter

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You are 15

"You doin' ok over there bird?" My Dad asked glancing at me. "I am fine," I say annoyed pulling out my phone. "You're looking a little green." My Dad notes as we take a rather sharp turn causing me to clamp my hand over my mouth. Before I could respond a mixture of cheap beer, weed, and half-digested pretzels spilled all over myself and my Dad's car. "You ok?" My Dad asked after giving me a second to catch my breath. "Mhmm. I'm sorry about the car." I whisper feeling disgusted with the mess all over my shirt and pants. "All good. Nothing a shower and some paper towels won't fix." He mutters. "You gonna throw up again?" He asked eying me cautiously. I shake my head. "Alright. We are almost home. Mom is sleeping so let's try not to wake her up. You need a shower. If Mom asks about where you were you went over to Uncle Js but felt sick so I picked you up and you threw up on the way home. You will not be punished for the partying if you promise not to hide it from us. I just need to know you are safe. Uncle J, Uncle Pope, Aunt Kie, and I used to go out partying every night. But there were four of us watching each other's backs. I need you to tell me where you are going and what's going on in your life. Deal?" I nod. This seemed more than fair. "You're gonna feel it in the morning I think it's punishment enough." He chuckles.


Just a short blurb trying to get caught up in all of these requests. The comments sometimes get lost so messaging me usally works better.

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