Captain America's Daughter

Chapter 2: Long Awaited Misery

                       That night, dad took me out to eat at a diner. It was one of his favorites, and he has been eating there since the 1930's, when the place first opened. It was a nice Italian resteraunt. I ordered a calzone while dad got a double portion of ravioli. We talked about school (only the good parts though) and he said what he could about his mission. By the time we were back at the tower, things got awkward. This always happens after dad comes home. Everything's nice and happy until we run out of things to say. I wish we could become closer, but in his line of work, that just isn't a reality. After a few minutes of silently standing in Stark's elevator, I got off at my floor and did some homework. Gosh, I hate language. I mean why do we need to do this when we already speak the language. Our grammar is Gooder! 

           You would think that I would be used to this by now, but inspite of myself, a tear leaked out on to my pillow as I thought about me and dad's relationship. We used to be so close, but that was before this avengers stuff was so serious. All I want to do is sleep,  but the universe wouldn't let me have that comfort. I could feel the anxiety rushing from my body in the form of tears as I started to have a panic attack. This was the third one this month, and after it subsided, I decided if I had another on, I would talk to Tony, because even if we have our differences, he knows a lot more about this than anyone else I know. I flipped my pillow over to the dry side so that I wouldn't have to sleep in my own tears.  

                     School was the same as always. I told my friend Lexi that I had another panic attack. She was always there for me. After a quick hug and a thank you, I headed towards the math room for my daily dose of torture provided by one of my favorite teachers of all time, Mrs.Grahamcracker. This is one of those special occasions where I loved the teacher but hate the subject, instead of vice-versa. After math, the rest of my classes seemed to only take a few minutes. I was happy when my dad pulled in to pick me up. After I jumped into his blue ford truck (which was ancient), I attempted to make some conversation but that fell flat. Maybe this is my fault and I'm not trying hard enough, but I have to improve our relationship. Because the truth is, I don't think my heart will be able to take it much longer.