"Gwen? Are you up yet?" His dad's voice came from downstairs. She was surprised that he was still home. He usually goes to work much sooner. I wish he did now too. I have enough on my mind as it is. She thought despite the warm feeling in her stomach at the thought of actually seeing him today. She felt angry for that too. Then, she heard him coming up the stairs. I guess ignoring him doesn't work in my favor, this time.
"Yes, I'm up already. No need to come here." She shouted behind closed doors. Not that she had anything to hide but she didn't want him coming into her room. Better not get used to it. Luckily, his stubbornness hadn't woken up yet so her dad audibly turned back and went down. Gwen hated how sorry she felt for him after that.
The next hour was spent choosing her dark and a little too revealing clothes, putting on make-up and doing other usual morning stuff. Generally, she wouldn't need an hour for that but she wanted to stall for time so her dad wouldn't be there when she finally went down. That plan failed, though. He was sitting in the dining room, talking on the phone with someone. He waved at her when she got down and she found herself involuntarily waving back before scowling at him. He knew she would do it by reflex, judging by the smirk he sent her. Then he said his goodbyes to whoever he was talking to and hung up. He went into the kitchen and came back with a bag that had a big 'Gwen' sign on it. Like it was the fucking nineties.
"Let me guess! Fresh from the oven?" She asked sarcastically. She knew her dad hadn't made whatever was inside that bag. He barely trusted himself to make even the simplest sandwiches. He scowled back at her before changing his expression to that of a kicked puppy. It's something nobody would expect to see from the captain of the New York City police force. Gwen seriously doubted that anyone but her has seen that face before. It also made her hate herself on a whole new level. Without any other words, she jerked the bag out his hand and turned to walk out. Sadly, it appeared her dad had other plans.
"Don't hurry! I can take you in today." He said, catching up to her.
"Do you mean school or jail?" She asked dryly while refusing to look at him. Still, she felt the scowl he sent her way. Then she heard a deep sigh which only made her quicken her steps.
When they got out, she entertained the idea of walking towards the bus-stop but ultimately decided that she was enough of a bitch already for today. I mean, we don't have to talk on the way. So she got in his dad's car, a 1967 Chevrolet Impala with a replaced hybrid engine. She always thought that, for a midlife crisis car, that one was a weird choice but it could have been worse. At least, this one gives him an old-school detective vibe. Plus she was hoping that once she got her license, he would lend it to her sometimes. It was a faint hope.
They were silent for a few minutes but it seemed that the city traffic wasn't in their favor, as they were constantly stopped by red lights. Gwen was expecting his dad to break the silence but he just stubbornly stared at the road in front of him. I never had to wonder where I got that from. Not wanting to give in first, she did her best to keep up her own stubbornness but something was nagging her. And not just her usual guilt over how she treated her dad (she hated how she always felt that), rather the whole situation was out of place. Why didn't her dad leave early as usual, why did he offer to take her to school and if he had something to scold her about why hadn't he done it yet? She never considered herself really patient and it started to show by how much she was glancing at his driving, and infuriatingly silent dad. No wonder he's a good cop.
"Okay, I give up! What's going on?" She asked finally, not trying to hide her frustration one bit.
"Took you long enough..." Her dad muttered and sent a smile her way. She just scowled at him in return and crossed her arms over her chest, like a pouting little girl. But she already gave in, so she might as well continue.
