You, Me and Summer -completed-

Two

I followed my dad through the lobby and past the several empty desks, it was not quite ten yet.

"What's the point in bringing me here? I'm leaving tomorrow and I won't be back for a good..." I stopped when my dad suddenly stopped walking, his shoulders leaning forward.

He never slouched.

"Bexley." He turned around and in his hands was a small exercise book. Not only was he holding the exercise book but there were tears rimming his green eyes.

"Dad, why are you crying?" I whispered softly, my own eyes starting to sting. I've never seen him cry, not even when both his parents died within three days of each other.

"Never mind the tears." He wiped at his eyes and gently smiled at me, his lips curling up into something I never saw often. This alone brought my own tears to the surface. "Now you're crying, Bex my sweet buttercup, please don't cry." He took me in his arms and held me tight, his breathing steady. I muttered out some words that not even I could understand but my dad decided to ignore it.

"You're a very clever girl, and I know from the bottom of my heart that you're not going to do anything stupid." He pulled away and looked me in the eye, his brown ones wet with tears. "But you're not the only one going on this trip, and there are other stupid people in this world." I almost giggled at his choice of words, he never said 'stupid' and he didn't seem to like the word 'world' either.

"I know." I whispered, attempting to dry my eyes before making a real fool of myself.

"This is yours now. Your mother wrote in it when she was twenty." My dad handed over the exercise book to me, it was flimsy and close to falling apart. It was from a good thirty years ago. "In there are the stories of everything that happened on our third road trip together with a bunch of friends."

I knew my parents had been together since they were nineteen, and they had known each other since at least sixteen. It was a long lasting relationship, never had I seen them fight or argue. My dad built his career based on his passion for making things, and then selling them.

"Thank you." I said, finally finding my voice after examining the faded orange cover of the exercise book.

"Your mother wanted to get rid of that a long time ago, too many memories I guess." I nodded my head again, afraid to open the pages.

"Was it a diary?" I asked, looking up again and looking at the wall behind my dad.

"No, she wrote it after the trip. It was her way of... Dealing with things." My dad finished off his sentence, unsure of his words. I slowly nodded my head just to please him, I had no idea what he was talking about. "And another thing." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of keys, he examined them quickly before handing them to me.

"What's this?" They had a small keychain on them, and on it was an ancient photo of my parents.

"Take the company's old car, no one uses it anymore because it's not high tech enough."

"Is there a radio in there?" I asked, a huge grin on my face. My dad was giving me a car!

"Yes, but it's very bad at picking up signals." I squealed in delight, and against everything my dad had ever said about girly reactions he chuckled.