Paper Hearts [ON HOLD]

[3]

paper hearts
three

"VEGAS?"

"Yes, daddy." Thoroughly exasperated at my father's interrogation, I let myself collapse on one of the spinning chairs inside his office. "It's just for the weekend, anyway."

His suit remained creaseless as he too spun around his office chair. Robert Grey may have been the most prestigious and respected name in the totality of the business industry, but his inner youth materializes every time he's with me. "Alright, just let me know—"

"Dad," Before another word can be uttered from his mouth, I interrupted him, knowing fully well what he would be saying next,"we've been through this a hundred million times and my answer's always going to be the same, daddy. No, thank you."

Out of the long, long list of the things that I hated the most, freeloading tops the list. It irks me the most having to depend on another when I, myself know that I have the capability of not having to. I absolutely despised having to depend on my parents—and being dependent in general—for things and money that I will spend and use for myself. Independency is the preeminent reason as to why I work shifts at In-n-Out.

"Well, alright," he sighed, defeated. Grinning, I skipped over his desk before enclosing my arms around his sturdy figure.

"Thanks, dad."

"You're more than welcome, sweetheart." He smiled, ruffling my hair as he returned the gesture. "Are your white-hair-causing best friends coming with you?"

"When are they not?"

"Touché." He chuckled before stepping away and going back to his computer doing god knows what. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Poker night tonight, okay? I figured we kinda need some family time since I've been all-work-no-play this week."

My chest tightened at my father's words and I snap my mouth shut to restrain myself from spilling words I know would regret once they tumble out. Instead, I simply nodded, offering a smile to my innocent father. "Yeah, yeah we really do need one."

***

"Look at her overly obvious bleached hair!"

"Who wears tanks in this kind of weather?"

"Oh god, her make-up—that's unicorn puke flavored cake guys, not make-up."

"She's still hot."

Horrified, Gabby, Brooklyn, and I turned to look at our male friends—and one enemy—whose lewd eyes were glued towards the blonde passenger on the other car parked besides ours. We were parked behind Dairy Queen since Kade claimed that his bladder is blowing up and will activate a Mountain Dew fountain inside the car if we don't go for a stop which leads us to our current situation.

While we were waiting—along with a few rounds of spying traffic cones and black lace bras—a car pulled up beside ours that consisted of a couple (or they may not be) with the same intentions of stopping by for a quick pee, leaving the current subject of the talk in our criticizing eyes as she moved around the passenger seat, thinking no one could see her.