Carried Away

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"How's college life treating you?" My dad asks in the car on the way home. 

"It's been alright." 

"You've been gone for almost two months, and have barely called and all I get is alright?" That makes me smile, my dad never fails to put a smile on my face. Whenever he senses that I'm off he'll say something to make me smile. 

"Basically yes." I pause before going on to explain that yes some classes are hard but I'm doing well, I've been making friends, and not getting into unnecessary trouble. 

"Any boys I need to know about?" He questions, and maybe it's me being paranoid but I feel like he already knows the answer. 

"Possibly." I answer, not quite ready to explain my sort of relationship with Sawyer to my dad. 

"What does possibly mean?" He asks loosing his playful tone, in favor of a more demanding one, letting me know that there is no way I'm getting out of explaining this to him. When I fist moved in with my dad the first thing I learned was that when he used this voice I have no choice but to answer the question. 

"It means that I like him, and he likes me, but we're not technically together." I say trying to answer the question without actually answering the question. I don't think he needs to know details, and if he insists on getting them I'd prefer to be out in the open so I can run, when he finds out that I'm not a virgin, and haven't been for a while.

"And why aren't you together if you both like each other?" He asks, pushing for more details.

"I don't know really. We just meet about a month ago and I just. . . We are. . . I don't know." I answer,always articulate. 

"What do you like about him?" I could go on for ages. It's simple really I like everything about him, but my dad is after a more specific answer.

"He's very put together, like he knows what he wants to do with his life and how to get there, and he's pretty, and funny." 

"Pretty?"

"Yes pretty I thought telling you that he was hot would be weird and pretty was the first word that came to mind." 

My dad laughs at that. He usually laughs whenever I say something exceedingly strange, which happens more than I care to admit, but it's nice to see him happy like that. 

The rest of the car ride consists of my dad telling me stories about work, and our neighbors. 

"What do you want to do today?" My dad asks, as soon as I put my bags down. 

"A nap would be nice." Long car rides always tire me out. 

"You're going to be here for two days, and you want to take a nap? Not go see your friends, or spend time with me?" I don't have friends here, never really did if I'm being honest. They were just people I spent time with to keep myself occupied. 

"After my nap, we can make shrimp tacos." I offer knowing that my dad can't refuse. Ever since I moved in with him shrimp tacos have been our thing. We always make them together, and listen to Motown music. 

Shrimp tacos and Motown music, is the reason we get along so well. When I first moved here at nine years old, shy, and terrified, it was the only way for him to pry a smile out of me.

"Ok well have a good nap."

"I will."

"Love you."

"I love you to dad." 

 I slept much later than I was planning to. It's Saturday morning, and my dad is drilling me with questions.