Under The Surface [Editing]

Chapter TwentySeven Stories

Rolling over, eyes still closed, I reach out for Nathan as I begin to wake up and realize he is not there. I stretch my limbs out feeling a little off balance. My head is only mildly throbbing and hazy. Thank god I wouldn’t be having a hangover today.

Loud angry voices downstairs come to my attention as I filter out of sleep to a waking state. Confusion clouds my senses and I realize it must be my father and he has been informed of the night’s events. I freeze not really wanting to go down and face his wrath and most likely not much of it would be directed at me, hopefully.

I am still in Nathan’s room and a thought occurs to me maybe my dad found out I slept in his room last night and is furious with us both. Getting up I creep out into the hall quietly to see if I can hear any of the words being spoken, louder in the hall and definitely clear. My father is fighting with Nathan, crap he must know.

“Why didn’t you get a hold of me immediately?” my dad growls.

“I was trying to keep her safe in the heat of the moment, I knew you would be out,” Nathan said heated anger in his voice too.

“That is my job, I am still her father,” my dad roared making me jump back.

“I didn’t really have time to think about that,” Nathan snaps back in defense. Is he insane to talk to my father this way? Yes, there is that special bond they seem to have but he is still a child in my father’s eyes.

“Your feelings for her are clouding your mind,”

“On the contrary my head is quite clear,” Nathan counters and there is something underlying in his words.

I need to do something to stop this fighting. My dad must have one hell of a hangover to be letting himself scream like this. He is usually so well controlled and reserved in his emotions.

I hurry down the stairs, whoa, go a little slower Dawn I tell myself. My feet feel weak and legs wobbly underneath me and a slight dizziness from the quick movement. So not completely recovered from the drug they gave me. It must have been powerful.

“It was my idea,” I blurted out not caring if they knew I had heard part of their argument. My dad looks up blinking at me, shock, anger and worry burning in his blood shot eyes. Yes he definitely has a killer hangover.

“What,” he sputters.

“I told Nathan to take me home and not to bother you,” I shrugged my shoulders to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. Nathan covered for me once. I walked furtively to the fridge.

“But Nathan said you were drugged,” my dad questions but it sounds more of an accusation.

“It was wearing off and nothing happened anyway,” I snap at my dad something I haven’t done since he announced Nathan’s arrival. I was getting sick of this very strange ‘who cares about Dawn more’ between the both of them.

Nathan was just staring at me his face expressionless, as his anger seemed to be dissipating. He knew that I was covering for him in some form; I did say I wanted to go home last night. The thought occurred to me how my dad was not informed right away since we were technically minors.

“Three boys are in juvenile hall even James, what happened Dawn?” I sighed, and shot a hard look at Nathan, he hadn’t told him much yet. Now we both would have to tell the story.

I sat at the table with a muffin and a glass of orange juice. Nathan cautiously sat down beside me and my dad plopped in a seat to my left.

“Why were you drugged?” my dad pressed. It was a relief that he automatically assumed it was not by choice; there was no way I would have taken drugs willingly recreational or otherwise.