The Bucket List From Above (ON HOLD)

Chapter two

I hope you will all have a wonderful weekend, and thank you so much for reading. Enjoy!

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It's final - I'm never missing Mrs. Watson's classes ever again. When I came home, approximately two hours ago, I decided to settle down and relax for a moment.

Big mistake.

I was going crazy. After what felt like years of groaning, swearing and what not things were going not so smoothly as I thought they would. So now I was sprawled out on my bed with my laptop, which in fact was blinding me at this point, and various papers. Long story short - the assignment was to write four pages on why it's important with an education. 

 Not a dramatic move at all, Mrs. Watson.

The sound of the front door unlocking made my eyes open up. ''Skyler? Are you home?''

''In my room, dad.''

Deciding it would be the best to continue after dinner, I saved the document before I closed the screen. I glanced at my alarm clock: 6:48 PM. My dad works as a real estate agent so occasionally he would spend a few extra hours at work. Today was one of those days.

It was nice to be home alone after school. In fact; I loved it. We've all had our moments where we let loose and throw a concert everywhere in the house for no purpose whatsoever. Those were the times being home alone was very much appreciated. 

''Hey, kiddo.'' He entered my room looking pretty worn-out from work. He nodded towards the notepads and papers lying untidily on my bed next to me. ''Are you busy?''

I shook my head and moved to the end of the bed. ''What's up, dad?''

''To compensate for my later arrival than usual; how about we go out to dinner tonight? It can be our monthly father/daughter day.''

''On a Monday?''

He shrugged. ''I don't see why that's a problem.''

''So you're not just suggesting this because you have no motivation to cook anything?''

He loosened his tie and stepped out of the room. ''I'm wounded, sweetheart!''

Ever since we moved, dad and I, once or twice a month, depending on our memory, spend a day or an afternoon together - like this one for example. Every time was always a success, which pleased me.

Before we came to Santa Monica, dad and I didn't have the same relationship as we do now; he and mom would always fight as soon as they got the chance or a reason to do so. It's not like they acknowledged or even cared about my presence in the house. They, presumably, didn't go a day without fighting. Luckily there was no physical absube; only verbal.

-

Dad had taken me to ''Enjoy Santa Monica'' - a restaurant by the pier. It was a cozy restaurant with dimly lights in the ceiling, a dark beige color covering the walls and many beautiful contrasts as well.

After thoroughly looking through the menu I decided that pasta carbonara would be a good choice; after all, it's my favorite.

''So,'' dad started, clasping his hands together and placed them on the table. ''There's something I wanted to talk to you about.''

I narrowed my eyes. ''It sounds important.''

''Well, that's your call if it is or not. Anyways,'' he cleared his throat before continuing. ''Your mother called today, asking for you.''