"Dad!" I call out when I enter the house. After we all ate pizza we'd decided to go for ice-cream to avoid dad's arrival home from work, but now, it's time to face his wrath. Alone, might I add. "Daddy!"
I throw my keys on the side table at the entrance and slowly inch through the hallway towards the kitchen. The house is submerged in complete darkness, and it makes me suspicious and nervous.
"Dad! I know you're home because your car's out front," I say before entering the kitchen.
"Damn," He suddenly says from a barstool and I jump a little. "What a stupid mistake on my behalf,"
I squint in order to see his silhouette before shaking my head. I feel the wall for the light switch and flick it on. Dad is just sitting there, nothing in his hands and nothing on the bench in front of him. I narrow my eyes. "So what's your plan of attack? Should I run now?"
"No," He pushes his chair back and casually stands up, his eyes not leaving mine. "You're safe for now. I plan to attack when you're least expecting it,"
I allow myself to relax as I chuckle. "I'll always be expecting it,"
"That's what you think," He smirks. He nods his head at the bag in my hand. "What have you got there?"
I look down in confusion before remembering my pathetic hopes of a truce. "Oh, I brought you a donut. But I figure what you've just said means you're not very willing to bribery or truce,"
"No," He snorts and then starts around the island, snatching the little bag from my hand as he passes me. "But I'll still eat the donut,"
"Dad!" I scoff and turn to see him exiting the kitchen. "Stop! I have something serious to talk to you about,"
He groans and turns back around, taking a step towards me. "Why does parenting have to be so hard?" He whines. "What? What do you want now? One of my limbs?"
"No," I roll my eyes and sit on top of the kitchen bench. "But school camp is next week and I demand that I meet my principal before then,"
"Melissa," He says slowly, his voice condescending as if he's speaking to a two year old. "You've already met your principal,"
I glare at him. "I want to meet her as your friend, or your fuck buddy. Or your girlfriend, or whatever,"
"Melissa!" He snaps, his eyes hardening. "Don't drop the 'G' word!"
"You mean to tell me that you haven't even asked her to be your girlfriend?" I scoff, shaking my head. "Are you even a man, or what?"
"Well..." He chuckles slightly and it's one of the rare times that my dad is actually, genuinely blushing. He scratches the back of his neck as he moves his weight from one foot to the other. "It's complicated, Mel,"
"It is not complicated," I laugh, sliding off the bench. "You obviously like her, and trust me, the way she speaks about you kind of hints that she's totally into you too,"
"She speaks about me?" Excitement seeps through his voice, his eyes bright.
"Well it was only once," I admit sheepishly. "But she was pretty concerned about your health,"
He stares at me for a long moment and I can tell he's thinking something over in his head. Finally he sighs. "Fine. I'll invite her for dinner,"
"Good!" I grin as I walk past him into the hallway. "Now I'm going to bed,"
"Night, bitch," He calls.
"Goodnight daddy,"
~
