Contact {#wattys2016}

Chapter 6

Getting on the bus was easy. Yes, of course people stared because I was the girl who was apparently taking the school by storm and getting the attention of someone as social important as Brandon.

But none of that mattered. In less than 24 hours, Brandon would be at my house, proposing marriage to me...among other things. I mean we still had to get an A on this but why can't I have a little fun?

Getting off the bus? Whole other story. The short walk from the end to my street to was enough to rattle me to my very core. My face paled and my breathing stopped when I thought of what I was in for. Barbie told my mother that I'm crazy.

Normally, my mother couldn't care less. But A) Barbie called her. Not texted, not DM'ed , called her using a phone. That's extremely rare for Barbie to actually pick up a phone and speak into it. And B) It was in the middle of the school day. No one is supposed to have their phones and the fact that Barbie was calling from mine in the middle of the day strikes up a huge red flag. I mean it sounds like my mom listened to the rant that she was going on with so maybe she does believe her? If that makes any sense. If it doesn't...well none of this did anyway.

I brace myself before walking up my driveway. My mom isn't outside tending flowers and her garden which I guess is good. When she's nervous, she can't be inside. She says it traps her in her own problems and decides that the only thing she can ever do, is garden, her latest hobby.

Opening the door, I waited for a sound. Any sound that would say that she was here and ready to examine me for the crazy house.

"Amber, pumpkin? In here." My dad calls from his office. I sincerely hope he doesn't know what the heck Barbie said.

"Hi, Daddy." I smile, using my sweetest voice.

"So how was your first day?" He asks, no hint of accusation in his voice. Maybe he doesn't know.

"Interesting, Dad. Very, very interesting." I tell him. I sit on the arm of the small couch in his office. I don't really know what my Dad does that requires a home office but it's used frequently. He is always either here or in the kitchen. Surprisingly, my dad could be a master chef with the skills he has.

"How so, pumpkin?" He asks, looking up from his cluttered desk. He types something into his computer before writing on his yellow legal pad.

"People were blown away by my contacts." I explain, watching as he carefully writes down something.

"Uh huh. I told you they'd be surprised!" He chuckles at me, making my mouth form a smile. Dad's office has a glass wall that he puts his desk up against which showcases the outside. I don't know how he convinced Mom to let him get it put in but he managed. He has a few bookcases full of thick white binders with a whole bunch of contracts that no one knows what they say yet they sign them anyway. I like to come in here to do my homework and sit on the very couch my dad let me pick out.

"They really were. It was...so weird."

"What do you mean?" He puts the pad down and turns his spinny chair to face me.

"Well I got a lot of attention I wasn't prepared for."

"Well then give them something to stare at. You're beautiful, of course they'd stare." My dad compliments.

"You have to tell me that."

"I choose not to answer that question." He smirks with a wink before leaving me to my thoughts. He works way to hard. I mean not in a completely bad where to the point where he ignores me but I guess I just hate that he puts so much stress on himself.