That same evening, my father told me we were invited to dinner at one of his employee's house. Her name was Carol Jones and she had a daughter around my age. I just hope it wasn't Samantha, or any other potential Erin hater.
We had to be there by seven but we left our house at quarter to eight because my dad had to change suits about three times before deciding to ditch the suit and wear a shirt and jeans. Well, he was certainly trying to impress someone.
We arrived at the Jones' house one hour late but Mrs Jones was pretty cool about it. She ushered us into the diming room immediately, served the food and told us to eat as much as we wanted to.
Thirty minutes into the dinner ( I was on my second plate by then) Mrs Jones' daughter walked into the dining room. She looked exactly like her mother, the same caramel coloured skin, brown eyes and black hair, except Mrs Jones hair was short and curled while her daughter's was long and straight. Her daughter stood there awkwardly waiting for her mother to notice her and when she was noticed the two had a stare off that conveyed many emotions.
Mrs Jones cleared her throat, " Alicia," she said, " how nice of you to join us, have a seat."
Alicia took the seat next to my father, the one furthest from me. She was polite, talkative and very cheerful but I had a sinking feeling she didn't like me. Every time I caught her eye she would glare at me and turn away. Somehow during the dinner the adults decided that Alicia would drive me to and from school since my car wasn't shipped over yet. Lucky me.
I left the Jones with a full stomach and the feeling that this was more than a dinner between colleagues they were close, too close.
YOU ARE READING
On The Move
Ficțiune adolescenți“Are you single?” Erin was taken aback by this question. It was asked by a complete stranger who was standing behind her in the Starbucks line. “Why do you want to know?” she asked. The speaker was a tall blonde muscular boy with short golden blonde...
