A Thousand Ways, One Direction

The Arrival

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Chapter 1 – The Arrival

~LIANNA~

With dirt all over my dress, my face, and me, I dug my little fingers again, letting filth in between my nails. Dad said that this is where the treasure is but I can’t dig far enough.

Someone pulled my pigtails. “Hey, curly girl, want to play kickball?”

I turned to look at his face, squinting because of the ray of light that passed him. “No.”I said as quickly as I went back to treasure hunting.

He pulled my hair again. “Let’s play kickball.”

“I don’t want to.” I said in my slightly squeaky voice. “I’m treasure hunting.”

He kneeled beside me, bringing his annoying little face close to me. “There is no treasure in this neighborhood, dummy.”

“There is. Dad said there is.” I tried ignoring his usual bring-me-down attitude. My mum said he’s a good boy, how does she know? She wasn’t the one always bothered by him.

“There is a real treasure I know. And even though I don’t like you, I’ll tell you where.” He whispered.

My eyes widened, “Really?”

He nodded, “On one condition,” he smiled mischievously, revealing two missing front teeth. “You’ll marry me when we get bigger.”

My eyes grew even wider. I crossed my arms, “No, thank you.” I said, emphasizing every word. “I’d rather dig in our backyard my whole life.”

He pouted before murmuring something I didn’t understand.

“Hey, you two.” Drew approached us, holding something. “Dad made this.” She gave it to me. It was a map.

“Do you think this leads to real treasure?” I asked and she nodded vigorously.

I shook my head at the memory with a smile on my face. It’s been often that he’s on my mind, though I’d never admit. I can still remember the last time I saw that annoying face. It was before my Dad’s engagement in America over a year ago. I came back alone a week later and he was gone. Without a word! That only proved one thing: I wasn’t important to him. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw him on TV. Why should I hope that I would actually mean something to him? The guy’s famous!

Today was the day Dad’s wife—my stepmother, Claudia—with her daughter, Max moved in. Max is just as old as I am.

A knock on my door announced their arrival. I smiled at the sight of my Dad. Two months after the wedding, I finally saw him again.

“Hey there,” he smiled; his eyes that are identical to mine are sparkling green, “Miss me?”

I ran to him and gave him a high-five. If there’s one more thing I had in common with Dad, it’s we both feel awkward with hugging. “How’ve you been, Dad?”

“Brilliant. Max and Claudia are downstairs. You might want to say hi.” He turned towards his room, “I’ll call delivery.”

“Sure.”

Claudia—a youthful, pretty woman—threw her arms around me as soon as she saw me. I haven’t got the nerve to tell her I wasn’t comfortable with it. But a hug once in a while feels good, especially when it’s been so long since a mom who feels motherly towards me gave me a hug. Max gave me a shy smile. Unlike Claudia, Max is quite reserved and is not really a people person (not that I am).