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Forty-nine || Why Didn't You Invite Us to the Wedding, Owen?

OKAY GUYS I'M SORRY  wattpad is being annoying and keeps making this chapter private and I  DON'T KNOW WHY and I want to SCREAM I DON'T NEED THIS

Hey guys! How's it going?

Break is ending, time to put the dying back in studying.

Anyway, sorry for the  week of silence, my parents decided to do this thing where they take  away electronics and try having more "family time." That lasted until I  said that the Lord of the Rings was marathoning on TNT Thursday night  (HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS BTW FIRST CHAPTER OF 2016) and my dad is almost as  much of a nerd as I am so we watched all three while my art skills got  significantly better due to the lack of a phone and crying over better  peoples' drawings.

Basically, the end  result was that I had to hammer this chapter out last minute, so there  will be filler fluff and typos. Sorta sorry, sorta not because I am a  helpless romantic at heart despite my utter disgust towards couples in  real life. Welcome to my fluffy hell, have a pomegranate, stay awhile.

Anyway, dedication  goes to retaw2116, because yes, Coal is an idiot. And yes, he is still  cute though because he's a fictional character and we must love his  stupidity.

So, I hope you all have a good 2016, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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    "So," I start,  leaning against the driver's seat after settling everyone down. It was  hard to say goodbye to Jen, but we were on a time limit, so the  departure was swift.

Owen doesn't take his eyes off the road. "You should be sitting down, we're moving."

I ignore him and change the radio station from the rock song he was playing, much to his irritation.

    "We don't have to go to your house," I say. "We can find someplace else –"

    "Like where?"

I don't have an answer, instead I say, "I just – I already messed up with Coal and his dad and I don't want to force –"

    "You're not forcing  anything, Tide," Owen interrupts me, changing the radio station back.  "This is my choice. Besides, it's about time I paid a visit." The  sentence is humorless.

I don't answer for a while, until I scuff my feet on the floor and say, "Thanks, Dad."

Owen smiles for a second. "You make me feel old."

    "You are old, you listen to classic rock." I say, reaching for the radio.

He whacks my hand away. "I like classic rock."

    "Which is why you're old."

    "Just sit down before you break something."

The floor of the bus is warm and rumbling as I settle down, grinning up at Owen as he mutters, "That's not what I meant, kid."

I ignore him and pick at the lint on the driver's seat. "How long's it been?"

Instead of giving a mysterious, dark and brooding response like, "too long," or "not long enough," he just says, "Ten years."

    "Why'd you leave?"

    "Unforeseen complications."

    "Involving...?"

    "Alcohol and a truck."

My questions cease for a few moments, the white noise of the highway blending with the radio.