College Fund

//It Sounds like A Warzone in Here//

"Morning, Dad." I greeted my dad with a kiss on the cheek. He paused in his daily task of buttering toast to acknowledge my presence with a side-hug.

"Morning, Cass," he replied.

Our small kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of toast. Many of my friends would laugh at me during sleepovers, when I would turn down their offers of pancakes and waffles for toast. "It's simple, and it's delicious. What more could you want?" I would counter their protests. My dad had made me many things for breakfast over the years, but toast was always my favourite.

My dad slid my plate in front of me. "Y'know," he said, "I was thinking we could head to the beach tomorrow, just for a fun day. I can ask my boss for the day off."

I smiled at the idea. My dad and I hadn't taken a fun day like that in a while. He worked for a big-name bank, and didn't get many days off. He literally lived to work.

As much as I appreciated his offer, I was glad I had a reason to decline. My dad's boss would certainly not be impressed if he asked for the day off, especially on such short notice.

"That sounds great, but I'm working a double shift at Milky Way, remember?"

My dad's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he slowly nodded. He did remember things, it just took him a while. That was one thing I missed my mom for. She always remembered every tiny detail. I never had to tell her anything twice.

Dad scratched his head as pushed away his empty plate. "You're working today too, right? What time?"

I nodded. "11 until 5. I'll be home for dinner."

"Perfect. I'll probably pick something up on my way home, I won't get off until 5 either, and we'll both be starving."

"Alright, Dad. Sounds good," I replied as I dumped our plates and cups in the dishwasher. After wiping down the table with a damp cloth, I walked down the hallway of our small bungalow until I reached my room.

Our house was tiny compared to most. My dad downsized after my mom passed away. Not only was the mortgage at our last house too large for his now-single income, but I think the house held memories that were too painful for him to deal with so soon after his wife's death.

I quickly blow-dried my long hair, which was still damp from my shower earlier. Once my brown locks were mostly dry, I sighed and pulled on my black dress pants. It was sweltering outside, but I was forced to wear long black pants while at work.

From where I stood, I could hear my dad's car pulling out of the driveway. I was a little hurt that he hadn't bothered to come say goodbye, but I guess he figured he would see me soon enough.

It was only 9:00, however, I planned on leaving in about an hour for my 11:00 shift. Taking public transit wasn't the most time-friendly way of commuting to work, but without my own car I had few other options.

By the time I was heading out the door, the sun had risen high in the sky and I could feel beads of sweat already forming on my forehead. Groaning irritably as my dark pants began to absorb the sun's heat, I walked briskly down my street. My bus stop was a few blocks away, and if I wanted to catch the 10:15 bus I would have to move quickly.

As I was walking, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out to reveal a text from my best friend, Bria.

Bria: Party tonight, my place! You BETTER be there ;)

My stomach tied in a knot and I instantly felt like I was in the middle of a game of tug of war. If I went to Bria's house for the party tonight, I would be tired tomorrow, and my dad would force me to cancel my double shift and stay home to rest. But if I missed the party tonight, I knew I would regret not being there to have fun with my friends when the pictures came out on Instagram.