The New Hat (the third book in the hat series)

Chapter Four

He wasn't there. In fact, none of them were. It was a fan made Con, more of an artist fair and hang out than an actual con. It was here that I met April, Cassidy's childhood friend. Her features seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite remember. She had shaggy, light brown hair with bright blue streaks. Her sharp features could cut diamonds. I know that description isn't original, I don't write. The three of us clicked rather well. None of us missed a beat when another told a joke. Our wit and since of humor being the same across the board. We had fun goofing off and looking at art. Despite my distaste for the Yogs, their fans are wonderfully creative. Looking over several paintings of amazing quality I couldn't help but feel jealous. That is until I came across my fathers face. Alex Smith. Shittiest father of all time. If I have ever met him, I didn't remember doing it. The one good thing he did was send my mother's letters with me when he gave me to the system.
The rest of the afternoon was tainted with the thoughts of my father and the memories of his absence. My childhood wasn't terrible, I just bounced around a lot. I wasn't abused or neglected, but I wasn't what foster families wanted to keep due to my rapidly changing moods. It wasn't uncommon for me to be extremely happy one minute and crying my eyes out the next. Upsetting people made me distressed for days and becoming a teenager made it worse.
Cassidy noticed my shift in mood and invited me over to play video games with her and April. I couldn't say no. Her apartment was a mirrored layout to mine but was much more homely. Decorated with posters of the Yogs (all signed) and a strong use of the color blue.
"Blue is my favorite..." She said, blushing slightly.
"Mine as well, it has a shade for every mood." I replied, hoping to defuse her embarrassment, even if I didn't understand it. The three of us had fun for a few hours before April had to go, leaving us alone. We sat beside each other on her couch, playing some sort of fighting game with a large selection of characters.
"I'm sorry..." She said out of the blue, crossing her legs and looking at the floor.
"For?" I was confused. God the more I try to write this the more it sounds like a bad fan fic.
"You didn't have a good time at the con, and you didn't even want to go. I'm sorry I forced you."
I didn't want her to be upset, especially not because of me.
"No. No I'm just bitchy. You are fine." My heart started racing, unsure how to improve the situation.
She looked over at me, her icy eyes peering into my soul and history. Knowing something but not saying anything.
"I had figured it would be fun. I edit for the Yogscast and I don't often get to go to actual cons since I am not one of the faces of the company." She revealed, "I like seeing the fans. They are more passionate than the new creators. They love what is made and it inspires them."
"I noticed." I scratched the back of my neck unsure how to respond again. The longer I spent in her presence the more uncomfortable I became. At the same time though I didn't want to leave her. We talked for hours that night before I passed out on her couch. The next day, my everything block was gone.