The Secrets of Clara Hayes

Who's Hendrik?

"Dad! I'm home!" Clara called out, dropping her keys in the little bowl her dad keeps by the front door and kicking the door closed behind her, the stench of school bus fumes wafting in around her.

"Hi, honey! How was school?" Her dad, Parker Hayes, answered her greeting, his voice coming from the living room.

Clara kicked off her shoes and walked to their kitchen, dropping her battered orange backpack on to one of the chairs neatly tucked under the table and grabbing one of the apples sitting in the fruit bowl on the table.

"Eh, it was normal." She took a bite of the apple. "Cameron Berg got a bit, physical with me in the hallway, but other than that, pretty good."

Clara heard her dad heave an annoyed sigh and she looked to her right where her dad appeared in the opening to the kitchen from the living room, rubbing his eye tiredly.

His curly salt-and-pepper hair was slightly more sticky-uppy than usual, which meant he was messing with it again. It was a habit he did when he was nervous, stressed or anxious. His glasses were held in his hand which was leaning against the wall, and his eyes had slight bags under them.

He shook his head and asked,

"Do I need to do something about this boy? He seems to be a bit obsessed with you, and I don't want anything to happen to you. Do you want me to talk-"

"No, dad, you don't need to talk to his parents. Or a lawyer or anything. He's just, annoying. Don't worry, I can take care of myself." She gave her dad a quick smile before unzipping her backpack and taking out her homework.

Her dad sat down at the table and put his glasses back on, leaning towards her and saying,

"I'm serious, honey. If you're finding that this boy is bothering you-"

"I'll tell you." Clara finished for him, grabbing a pencil and sitting down. "I will, if that happens. I promise."

He looked at her with concerned eyes and sighed, getting back up and making his way back to the living room.

"I just don't want anything to happen to you, Clara." He said, coming back into the kitchen with an armful of papers and files. "I hope you know that."

Clara looked at him and stood up and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him in a hug before smiling and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I know, dad."

He smiled tiredly at her and said,

"I'm just gonna finish up this work in my office. Call me when you want to eat, 'kay?"

Clara nodded and sat back down, listening to their creaky old stairs groan under his weight as he walked up them, wondering what was on her dad's mind.

I'll ask him later. She decided, opening her Math textbook and writing down the first equation. Sighing, she thought, Question one of seventy-five... This is gonna take forever.

Forever later...

Clara slammed her textbook closed with a satisfactory thunk! and heaved a great sigh of relief. Arching her back against her chair and stretching her arms up above her head, she looked at the clock on the kitchen stove and was surprised to see that it was much later than her internal clock had told her it was.

She got up and opened the cupboards, looking at her and her dad's dinner options.

Bread, cereal, peanut butter, pasta, pancake mix... She thought.

She went to the fridge and trifled through the drawers and shelves, coming back out with tomato sauce and some frozen meatballs. She shrugged. Pasta and meatballs for dinner.