Baggy Jeans and Random band tees.
My fashion sense can only ever consist of that.
And you can never, for the life of you, ever make me wear heels. Converse sneakers are much more my thing.
In fact, I have a whole wardrobe dedicated for converse sneakers. No kidding.
Ever since I could walk or talk, my dad George Adamms, God bless his soul, never taught me how to dress up or act like a girl. No one could ever really blame him. He was, obviously, a man of testosterones. And he definitely wasn't expecting a 9 year old kid to just suddenly appear by his doorsteps with medical records and proof claiming to be his daughter. I was six then when my mom sent me away to live with my dad, and ever since, she's cut all ties with us. Which was fine with me. Frankly, I dont want a mother who has clearly shown that she didn't want me in their life. Her loss.
My dad, the poor guy, didn't know what to do at first. But was really happy with my company not long later. He soon introduced me to his brother, Gerard Adamms, who just came home from tour a few months after my arrival.
"HUMPING COWS. Why is there a kid in my house?!" He shouted upon seeing me.
That time, I was at the kitchen counter, chewing my Cinnamon toast crunch cereal rather loudly. My short legs dangling from the high chairs. Half of my face was smothered with milk. I finished chewing and gulped.
"Glad to see you too." I replied with clear sarcasm. I spooned another mouthful of cereal, and then another.
"Are you MY kid?!"
I shrugged at him in reply, deciding to play with him a little. "I don't know.. Am I?" I smirked at him.
"You sly little brat--" Whatever he was about to say was cut off when my father decided to grace us with his presence.
"Hey bro! I didn't know you were coming around. What's up?" Dad said while making his way to the fridge and drank milk straight from the carton.
"What's up?! Who's she?!" At this point I thought he was at the verge of crying. Is having a kid around that bad? I frowned.
He walked to dad and snatched the carton of milk. "And don't drink from the carton, George. Geez." He said annoyed.
"What?" My dad asked confused. His brother crossed his arms and pointed his head at me while his eyes were still glued to his younger brother.
"Oh, she's Hailey. My daughter. Your niece." My dad said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Gerard seemed to calm down when he heard that I was actuallt his niece.
"Oh. Oh, okay. Well then, hello there Hailey. Name's Gerard. Call me anything you like, just not Jerry."
"Okay then, Jerry." I said, clearly not following his words. I jumped off from my seat and made my way towards the living room. He laughed. and I poked my tongue at him making him laugh more.
We became best buddies.
Jerry was actually a member of a famous band. With that clear, It's not that were poor. We actually have an amount of money that was above the average person, that much was clear. It's just that my dad and uncle never had a clue on how to raise a kid, let alone a daughter. But nevertheless, no matter how idiotic they are, they are the best and coolest people I know.
