His Princess

Chapter Six

Dani:

Dad's car pulls up in the parking lot and I'm ready to pounce so there's no need for him to turn off the engine or god forbid come inside. Shouldering the sparsely packed bag holding my belongings, I walk out to greet him.

"Hello, Danielle." He says stiffly.

Charles Sumner is nothing if not formal and proper. He's been living this sort of ideal lifestyle since he's been born, I'm sure of it. I'll have to confirm it with Gran Betsy when I see her.

"Hey, Dad." I match his tone to keep up appearances.

We drive approximately twelve miles and then reach our destination of The House of Repression.

"Need assistance with your bag?" He wonders as we're about halfway up the steep flight of stairs.

I do not mean to pop my dad's egotistic bubble he seems to have going but I could definitely out do him at the gym any day of the week. He's a wiry, slight man.

"I think I've got it." I say sharply. "But thanks."

Mom's stirring something in a sauce pan when we enter the kitchen. She's sporting the same 100 year old checkered apron she's had since much before I was even thought of.

She set the whisk down momentarily to wrap me up into an awkward hug. "It's good to have you home, Danielle."

Hearing my birth name, especially coming from my parents, sends fury through my veins. Deeply exhaling, I count to ten. I've committed somewhat begrudgingly to this homecoming and I will stick to it. More than that, I will conduct myself as civil as I can be.

"Thanks, Mom." I say.

As I escaped from the hug, my sister Joyce emerges from wherever it was she'd been hiding. "Hey."

Taking a good look at her, I refrain from uttering a string of surprise induced cuss words. My younger sister Joyce was deemed as the scholar, the brilliant Sumner child all my life. I could never compete with those science experiments or that math score. And now standing before me, she's transformer into my parent's worst nightmare: a teenager. Her hair was mint green and her face was full of piercings. Also, Joyce's full lips were painted a deep crimson red. The hair suited her, though intuition told me my parents did probably did not share this notion.

"Joyce." I managed.

She grimaced. "I go by Jojo now." Like it was the most common of knowledge.

"Duly noted." I nod.

I go to my old bedroom, needing to digest all of this. Five days full of Sumner Family Fun. My bedroom is just as I'd left it. Had anyone been in there since I'd been here last? That was what, Christmas break last year. During the summer I avoided staying here by finding a cheap apartment above a pizza place, I worked down at the boardwalk doing henna tattoos. It wasn't the most luxurious job but I met a lot of interesting people and I did manage to scrounge up enough rent money until school was back in session. It was better for me at that time than to come back here when I didn't feel wanted.

Setting my bag on the bed, I looked around. Pawing through my old stuff, a small stamp collection, forgotten jewelry; a wave of nostalgia swept over me.

In a shoe box in the corner underneath the broken GameCube laid a pile of old journals. From the time I was ten til I moved out I kept an ongoing journal. Mostly to keep track of my thoughts, though I had still thought I wanted to follow in my parent's footsteps to become a psychologist.

I pick one up at random that dated back to my junior year of high school.

"Mari doesn't want to be in a relationship because she wants to keep her options open for college because she's a senior. That's not fair though because I could be so good to her. Plus; that way she wiggles her ass when she walks? Yummy."