I Choose You (A Shawn Mendes Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

Dear Diary,
Once again, I am home alone. But don't worry, dad left money on the table for me to order some pizza. How much did he leave you ask? $200. He left $200 with a note that said "Keep the change." You know, most 17 year old girls get a hug from their dad or maybe a kiss on the cheek to show them that they are loved. I get bribes, and I don't feel loved. I know I write about this everyday, but what else is there for me to write about? I haven't seen Taylor in months because she is too busy spending every waking moment with her boyfriend, and my friends never ask me to hang out with them. Ever since my high school graduation last Friday, I wake up, eat, brush my teeth, watch Netflix, eat, read, shower, brush my teeth, read, go to sleep and repeat. Do you want me to write about that instead? Well, I know you couldn't hear it, but my stomach just growled, so I am going to order myself the whole damn pizza shop. Might as well considering he gave me 200 fricken dollars.

Xoxo,
El

***

I let out a deep sigh, disappointed yet impressed that I just ate half of an entire large pizza on my own. Pizza truly is my weakness.

To my surprise, I find myself yawning and subsequently look at the clock. 10:00 p.m. and I'm already tired? That's weird. I struggle to keep my eyes open as I clean up the mess I made. Once I am done tidying up, I neatly place the change on the center of the kitchen table. I'm sick of accepting my father's bribes just to make him feel less guilty about never being home. Annoyed, frustrated, and tired, I groggily hobble to my bedroom. When I get to my room, I change into pajamas that are decorated by blushing cupcakes. I then brush my teeth before jumping into bed. Skipping one shower won't kill me. Sleep finds me easily, and I dream that I am Jane Eyre- the main character of a book I just started, whom I feel I very much relate to.

***

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ugh. Why do I keep forgetting to turn my automatic alarms off? School is over. I should not be woken up any time before 10:00 a.m. and it is currently 6:00 in the morning. Well, I'm awake now, and I doubt I will be able to go back to sleep. I rub my tired eyes and slowly sit up. As I begin making my bed, I hear what sounds like coffee brewing downstairs. Is my dad still here? He shouldn't be. He usually leaves by 5:00 a.m.

I quietly creep downstairs, worried that some type of kidnapper is making coffee in my home. Honestly, it seems more likely than it being my dad who is never here. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I peak my head into the kitchen.

"Good morning El," my dad smiles. "Coffee?"

I shake my head no. I hate coffee. Maybe if he spent more time with his daughter and less time performing plastic surgery on every cougar and their mom in L.A., he would know that. His work hours are ridiculous, and I don't know of any other surgeon who is out all of the time like him. Brad Hemly may be one of the best surgeons in the country, but he is one of the worst fathers in the world.

"I have some good news," he says before biting into his avocado toast. I raise my eyebrows at my father, waiting for him to continue his sentence. "I took the day off of work."

My jaw drops. I can't remember the last time my father took the day off. Maybe never?

"And what made you do that?" I ask quizzingly. "You're not the type of person to just take the day off."

"I wanted to spend some daddy-daughter time with you today," he states enthusiastically before sipping his coffee.

I cringe at his choice of words. I'm not a baby anymore. He must have forgotten considering he has missed what feels like more than half of my childhood. Up until I turned sixteen, when he decided I was old enough to spend long periods of time home alone, I spent most of my days with my grandparents.