California Dreaming

Chapter Twenty Three

   I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a white, flannel towel around my slim body, winding my hair over one shoulder. I stood over the sink and began to dry out my straight locks, watching my steady, jade eyes in the mirror. My hair became glossy, and flat, separating out into fine strands. I switched off the hairdryer and brushed my bangs out of my eyes; they had become far too long and were beginning to catch in my eyelashes. 

   I walked into my room and pulled on my underwear, finding my uniform hanging up in my closet and facing the daunting task of getting dressed in it for the first time in over a week. The school had understood, quite rightly, that I was in a stressful situation and that with everything that had gone on, it would do me some good to have ten days off. Admittedly, a month would have been better appreciated, but I would take what I could get. 

   Pulling the pleated skirt up, resting it on my hips, reminded me of my first day in Beverly Hills, starting a new school with new friends and teachers. I yanked the white polo top over my torso and did up all the buttons, before finding my jacket, where it had been hanging, on a bookshelf by my desk, for the past week or so. The window was open, next to my bed, and I went and knelt out of it, letting the cool, Californian breeze wash across my cheeks. 

   There was a knock at the front door and I heard my dad greeting Gabriel downstairs. I jumped up from the bed and snatched up my satchel and hung it over my body, quickly brushing my teeth and leaving the room. I skipped down the steps and found my father, making Gabes a glass of orange juice, sliding the tumbler across the island counter, to where Gabriel was seated. 

   “Morning,” I smiled happily, hugging my arms around Gabes’ waist and kissing him on the cheek innocently; I could tell that my dad was trying not to watch us, but I could also tell that he was smiling, probably reminiscing over his high school years. 

   “How you feeling about the first day back to school?” Gabes asked, taking a sip of his juice as I perched on a stool besides him, leaning against the cold marble surface as I closed my eyes and struggled not to fall asleep. 

   “I feel like I deserve another ten hours in bed,” I groaned, feeling Gabriel move his hand up and down my back comfortingly. “How about you?” I forced myself to sit up straight, massaging my shoulders, trying to loosen the knots. 

   “Well, I got out of the house, that was a start,” he chuckled. 

   “Your mum?” I grimaced, predicting what he had been eluding to. 

   “I’m surprised she didn’t make me leave the house with a sign on my head saying, ‘don’t knock me over, I’m a stab victim’,” he rolled his eyes and I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. 

   “He has no idea,” my father chuckled, taking a seat opposite us as he sipped at his big cup of steaming, black coffee. Normally he would have had to leave for work by now, but he had insisted on taking some time off, so I wouldn’t have to be left at home on my own. I had to admit, having him home more often did make me feel more secure. 

   “What do you mean?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes.  

   “You should have seen my mum after I left the hospital the first time,” I smiled, remembering just how ridiculously protective my mother had been when we had lived in England, even though Harry had been incarcerated. 

   “What happened?” Gabes asked wryly. 

   “She ordered me a bullet proof vest, the ones the police wear. She expected me to wear it to school and when going into the city,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Luckily, my father was significantly more understanding and said that as long as I texted him as soon as I arrived anywhere, I could leave the police issued equipment at him.”