Only Once

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Girl Talks

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Girl Talks

It was a seemingly ordinary Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining, the weather was freezing, reruns of older cartoons were being aired on the television and the local malls and stores were just opening. There was no doubt that it was a seemingly ordinary Sunday afternoon.

Erika Russo, however, wasn’t enjoying her Sunday afternoon nor was she treating it like an ordinary Sunday afternoon. Instead of catching up on her school work like she normally did or breaking her fast, Erika was lying in her bed; she was both motionless and thinking. She had only returned home from Hawaii yesterday and now she found herself not wanting to do anything and to simply waste her day, feeling sorry for herself. Again. After all, the last time she’d been put in this situation was following her drunken, table dancing ordeal.

Although there was no doubt that this was even worse than her whole drunken, table dancing ordeal. At least that was something that had came and passed. Sure someone had filmed her and she became the laughing stock of the school. Sure she ended up in the hospital and her father refused to talk to her for several days and called her a disappointment. But it was coming to a close. People were barely talking about it before the Christmas breaks and she was pretty sure that everyone would forget it by the time she returned to school.

Heck, she was sort of even glad that had happened. The more she thought about it, the more Erika realized that the incident gave her a certain pizzazz and je ne sais quio that she had unknowingly but subconsciously longed for. Plus, even she had to admit that she’d looked pretty darn hot in just her underclothes.

Smiling wryly at her stupid and hollow thoughts, Erika shook her head and focused back on the problem at hand; the whole issue of being the aftermath of her mother’s kinky affair with her coworker.

Who would’ve thought that Clark, the creep from the mall and car ride, was actually her father? Erika certainly never did. Although it was apparent that they somewhat resembled each other, she’d never reckoned that she was actually biology related to him.

But as it turns out, she was biologically related to him. That man really was her father. She’d grown up believing a lie.

“What the hell?” she said aloud and sat up in her bed, frowning. “What the fucking hell?”

Her frown grew even deeper as she thought about what her first impressions of that man were and how lowly she’d seen him as. Why couldn’t she have someone cool as her father? Someone like a rock star or a billionaire? Even a major crack head thug seemed more appealing than boring old Clark who smiled too much and followed her mother around like some weak, lost puppy.

At least her own father had some aspect of manliness and individuality to him. Well, the man who was supposed to be her father, but never mind that.

Erika heard a gentle knock on the door and her eyes flew over to it.

“What?” she called out, her voice sounding anything but friendly.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Can I come in?” her mother finally asked.

“No!” Erika snapped immediately but after a short moment decided against it and quickly said, “Okay, fine. Come.”

Her mother did owe her some proper explanations, after all, seeing as the bomb had been dropped while they’d been eating at a restaurant and her parents had revealed who her real father was while they were at the airport on their way back.

The door opened to reveal an aged looking Mrs. Russo with an unnaturally puffy face and messy hair.

Erika involuntarily flinched at her mother’s grave, unkempt appearance and felt guilty, knowing that it was her fault. After her parents had broken the news to her, Erika had stormed out of the restaurant and went to some nearby bar where she’d video chatted with Spencer. Then afterwards, instead of returning to the hotel room or going back to her parents like she should’ve done, she’d instead wandered around, sat down on a bench she’d came across of, and fallen asleep.