Senseless

smirk

Amber's presence at my house was never questioned. We went downstairs and I saw my dad moving around as if nothing was wrong, but his eyes were drooping and his suit was wrinkled like he'd slept in it.

"Hey, Dad," I tried.

"Yeah," he said, his voice distracted and detached. He hadn't even heard me.

"I was thinking of going out after school tomorrow," I informed him. "You know, to get my nails done."

"Why would you do that? It's a complete waste of time," he said, grabbing a bottle of orange juice from the fridge. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention that my dad was a huge "time saver," which really meant he was the annoying person who said "time is money" all the time.

When it wasn't that, it was "knowledge is power." I only got that one when I made a grade below an A. "Do you want to grow up to be a powerful woman?" he would ask.

I almost missed that lecture. He'd been too tired to give it for a few weeks before school. He was really a huge miser, but would never admit it and continued to give me—very reluctantly—a weekly allowance. It had dropped from sixty dollars a week to thirty.

He leveled me with a look and said, "You don't get your allowance till the end of the week, Sabine." The name made me stifle another eye roll. "I don't know where you're going to get the money, since you spent a bunch of money on school clothes yesterday."

"Easy," Amber quipped. "I'll pay both of ours."

"No," Dad said immediately. "We don't need other people to pay for us." He knew she knew that we were in financial trouble. We all knew that his pride always got the best of him.

Hiding her small wince, Amber said, "Sir, I just mean for her nails." Her voice stayed strong. We all knew how to talk to him, and she was no exception. Since Amber was like a sister to me, and a daughter to my parents, she was not shy to talk to them like a daughter. They talked to her like a daughter as well.

"Enough," he growled. "She doesn't need to go until she can pay her own." I bit my tongue to keep from saying something that would get me in trouble. "Maybe you ought to consider a job of your own," he suggested harshly. "That way, you don't have to suck us dry of money."

That comment hurt. I knew it was how he felt. I was seventeen, for Pete's sake, and I should have had a job and been paying for myself. He only voiced it when he was in a bad mood.

With that, he sat down and began reading his newspaper. Huffing, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room. My dad was hardly a father anymore.

Amber was close after me as I left, and I went up the curved staircase to my room. "Want to go to the gym?" I asked casually.

"I don't want to hurt my wrist more. I want it to heal before I do anything else so it never causes a problem with cheer." I nodded in understanding. I usually went to the gym once every day or every other day so that I could eat more, but I still had a vegan—who was coincidentally sitting next to me—who made me watch everything I ate. I knew that, if I wasn't careful, I could start gaining weight and I didn't want that.

My weight was much more than Amber's. She told me it was because I was tall, but it just made me self conscious and I tried to keep a good body so I didn't have to worry about my weight.

"But I'll go with you for moral support," she added with a grin. I hated it when she did that. She was the friend who yelled, "You can do better than that!" and "Come on, my grandma could lift more weight than you!"

"No, thanks," I said. Her grin widened and she said, "Come on, what harm can a little pushing do?"

"I'll push you right out the door." She laughed and shook her head.