I'm a Hawks' Kid

Two

As I stood there, impatient and ready to go home because I was done for the day, my father and who ever else was in the limo, was honking the horn for me to get in the car. But soon enough, I heard, "Kylie! Get in the car!"

I scoffed and walked around the car. I kicked the tire of the new car, but ended up just hurting my foot entirely and not making a dent on the car. I opened the door and hopped in, sighing loudly. I had crossed my arms and looked out the window as the car slowly pulled away. I was furious with my father. Why the hell did he come pick me up from my game in a limo, with a  personal driver as well? Hun? What's wrong with his sport's car?

"Why'd you get me in this car?" I asked, not looking at him as I still looked out the window.

I heard him sigh, not loudly, but loud enough for me to hear him. "Because,"

I turn my attention towards, furrow my eye brows, look at him with a distinct look and say, "Because isn't an answer," I knew there was something that he wasn't telling me because he tends lie a lot. He also doesn't really like kids, but I'm an exception.

He turns his attention now towards me, "I want you to stay quiet until we get home, am I clear?" Sometimes you can really tell that he doesn't like kids. In fact, when my father was young, he use to play for the team that I play on. It's another reason why I am and am not the best on the team. My father, when he was my age, had brought his team to playoffs, the final game, and they lost because he was an inch off. Hit the post and missed completely. But I don't want to live up to that, I want to live up to how my father was remembered before what happened on that rink.

Adam and I could compete to be the best kids on the team. But we don't, because we're too close to hurt the other by competing so fiercely. I have known him for so long, that I'd be hurt if I hurt him. But anyways, I nodded towards my father so he understood that I understood. It was getting dark, since my game was late, and I was getting tired. So I of course wasn't going to say much, other than ask my father why we were in some fancy limo. Sure we could afford it, but we didn't need it.

We got home and I got out of the car, slamming the car door shut, getting in trouble for slamming it by my father and the driver. Who got out and cleaned the door where I had touched the door. I walked inside, shut the door slowly and nicely this time, giving my father the biggest, fakest smile in the world as I shut the door. I stepped inside, throwing my jacket on the floor since my dad would pick it up anyways when he brings my hockey gear in. He does it every night I have a game or practice because he knows how tiring hockey is.

Once in my room, I shut the door, got into my pjs and then headed into my bed. But not before opening the window. It's Friday night, suppose to be the best night ever for most people, but not in my case. I was lying in bed now, tired as heck, and wanted to fall asleep. But I just couldn't fall asleep for awhile. About twenty minutes later and after staring at the ceiling, I fell asleep peacefully with minimum disruptions.

***

I woke up to something hitting me. I shot up scared and about yelled, but covered my mouth and calmed myself down. I sat up in my bed and rubbed my eyes, letting myself fall back as I took a deep breath. But then something else hit me again, I got out of bed and walked over to the window, which was open and where the stuff was coming from. Right as I got to the window, something hit me again, in the head and I fell back, loosing my balance.

With a loud thud, I heard my father calling my name, "Kylie! Are you all right?" He yells and it was louder since he was at the stair well. For a minute there if felt like I was loosing my mind, it went blurry, but I yelled back and said I was fine.

I sat up, rubbing my head and groaning because it was hurting. I touched my forehead, above my right eye and just missing my temple. When I brought my hand back down, there was blood, I about gasped and stood up. But when I did, I got super dizzy and held on to the end of my bed. I heard someone and  was startled. "Oh man, Kyles, what happened?" I heard.

I felt a hand touch my shoulder, "Where'd you come from?"

"Well, that isn't an appropriate question right now. What's a good question is, is what happened?"

"Adam! You threw rocks into my room! Ya smoked me in the head!" I yelled at him, he quickly covered my mouth, but also put his hand under my arm pit and helped me off the ground. I walked with him over towards the washroom. My head wasn't hurting as bad as it did before.  I stood leaning against the counter as he had grabbed a cloth from my bathroom drawer.

He soaked it and handed it to me, I didn't know why he was at my place this early in the morning and why didn't he just use the door? "Thank you, Adam,"

He nods, "I'm really sorry, Kyles, I didn't mean to hit you with a rock. I thought the window was shut."

"Sure Adam, that's why none of the rocks bounced off the window and came crashing back to the ground." I tell him sarcastically, he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.  As I held the cloth to my forehead, I heard Adam muttering something to himself. "Adam?" I questioned.

He looked over at me, kinda shyly, "What?"

"Are you all all right?" He shrugs his shoulders.

"I feel terrible," He says, exiting my washroom and I follow him out, setting the cloth on the rack to dry now. Adam leans against my window, he's never done this where he has came into my room. But today shows how much he cares for me and how good of a friend he is, which is something I cherish and will forever hold.

"Don't be, I'm fine. All right, we got practice on Monday, then a game wednesday against some crappy team. Just focus on that instead of me," He nods, heading for the window, "I'll swing by your place later, dad and I got stuff to do." He nods.

Adam has never met my father, let alone know I am a Bombay, only coach knows that I am a Bombay. Hence the reason why I am so good but at the same time am not at the same time. Adam knows my mother, and I go by Schaffer, which is my mother's maiden name. Not many people have seen my mother now a days, she left us awhile ago and I don't regret seeing her leave. She was nice and all, but always caused fights with dad, plus my stupid sister as well. I don't like to mention them, ever.

Adam hops out my window, on to the roof and I walk over to the window, watching him go to the lowest point, where a ladder was, and jump down. He waves and I wave back as he runs off down the street towards his place. His house isn't far from mine, about three or four blocks, I never count.

Once gone, I got dressed for the day, brushed my mid length light brown hair and tied up in a high ponytail. For hockey games, I usually put them in dutch braids. Mom taught me at a young age and I would practice on my dolls, which I don't have anymore, and my sister. She'd practice on me and I'd practice on her. But anyways, once I was finished and ready for the day, I walked downstairs to see my dad all ready at the front door.

"Look Kylie, I gotta go somewhere. So stay around the house, don't go far and what ever you do, don't talk to anyone." I nod, my father is a strict man but I always obey the rules, no matter what.

He went to go outside, but immediately shut the door and turned around, "What happened?" He asks walking over to me and presseshis thumb over top of my cut on my head, which is very slowly starting to scab over.

I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to tell him that I had a boy in my room, who is my best friend, but also came in without persmision. He doesn't know Adam, or any of my friends because he doesn't pay attention much. He's too busy ruling the courtroom, which is mighty fine by me, so long as he is there for some of my games. "Nothing,"

"Now don't tell me it was nothing, it's gotta be something," I nod.

I look down at my feet, pretending to be upset and sad, not giving him the quivering lip. "i jusr fell out of my bed this morning, I'm fine dad," He smiles and messes up my hair, well, just rubbing his hand on my head which caused small whispies on my head. If you don;t know what whispies are, it's those little pieces of hair that just stick up when your hair is up, it bothers me, but oh well. I can't do anything about it.

My father left and I went to the living room to watch TV until he returns or I get bored of watching the same show over and over again. I didn't mind being alone all day, I'm use to it a lot.The only time I am actually around many people is at school and hockey practice, or when my dad sometimes has those diner parties or banquets.