Stephanie & Xander

Chapter 1

I was seven when I first fell in love.

It all started when my father got busy for election. It might sounds weird how an election could result to a kid's love life but here's how it goes.

We live in Green Valley, California. It's one of the most diverse county in the United States, which I found actually beautiful and unique. There are still many whites in our city in comparison to other Californian cities but hell yeah it's still beautiful.

I mean, the reason why Pringles has so many flavours is because it's boring to stick to the original. It's the same with culture. Yeah, I'm anti-racist. I love unique people, the rarer the better.

One day, my stable lazy everyday life is suddenly disrupted when election season begun. My father wants to be the governor of California. Big dreams. And his tactic in publicity is to show people how much of a family-person he is. So, he drags me wherever he goes which is actually suffocating because we're never really that close.

He can't even control me, how is he supposed to control 39.5 million people? Damn, plus I don't want to be in Sacramento. For all it matters, I just want to slack till the autumn is over and now he's cramming for the office. He's such a dickhead.

"Stephan." Father calls, "Come on, we'll be late."

I don't like Dad but I'm not that much of an asshole so I buckle the belts on my shoes and give my eyebrows one final lick before running towards him.

He nudges me into the black, sleek sedan. Dad's driving and Mom is on the passenger's. She can never get enough of lipstick. She's been applying that once every five minutes. And, my father keeps talking on the phone with his voice laughing but his face isn't. I guess this is what politics mean.

As to the back seat, I'm occupying it along with a Pomsky I don't know. Father bought him for the sake of the campaign. He said that our family will be more attractive with a small dog. It'll make our family look closer and more... yeah, more 'family-like'. Ironically, the dog isn't even bothering looking at me.

We're still in San Diego freeway and when we're past Wardlow road, he talks as if the silence is bothering him, he never cared before, "Stephan. Give it a dog-ish name, sweetie."

And he never calls me 'sweetie'. I'm loving politics.

"I've never named a dog. Plus, why would I have to name him?"

"He's going to be your dog." He replies.

"I thought he's a family dog."

"But, dogs are for children, you know." He reasons out. He doesn't get angry. Wow.

"You just want me to take care of him because you guys couldn't. You're the one who bought him. Take responsibility." I roll my eyes. My father didn't say anything. Damn, I can feel his rage in the air. He's doing better keeping his temper under control.

"JUST FUC~!" he exhales, "Just name it, Stephan. Think of whatever."

"Victor then." He parked the car sloppily on the side of the road. I can feel my life ending. But I get down from the car as soon as he did.

A punch landed on my face. I hate the taste of blood. But I love pissing Dad off because he's trying really hard. And he looks lame.

He pushes me back to the back seat and he opens up the car fridge, picking up a soda can. He gave it to me and I place it to my cheek. He's the one who told me to name my dog with whatever I can think of. It was probably a mistake giving it Dad's name.