𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧 ~ 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 ~

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠

Millie

°

I backed away and slammed the door right in his smug face.

I turned around and walked back into the kitchen, continuing to make lemonade.

"Millie! Come on! I'm sorry!" He pounded on the door. I sighed and stirred the juice.

"Please, go away." I muttered under my breath.

"Please, Millie! Just let me in!" He pounded harder on the door, making me clench my jaw in frustration.

"What is that, Millie?" Papa asked. I can hear him coming down the stairs.

I stayed silent.

"Millie, who's outside?" He asked, coming into the kitchen.

"It's Finn." I replied with no emotion.

"Millie, please, come outside! We need to talk!" Finn shouted.

"Are you going to answer it?" Papa asked. I shook my head as I grabbed two glass cups from the cupboard and set them down on the kitchen table. "Remember what I told you?" He asked, making me stop what I was doing and sigh.

"Yes." I replied, not looking at him.

"Are you going to answer the door?" He repeated.

The pounding continued, and it got louder.

"Millie, please!" Finn shouted.

"Millie?" Papa asked, and I looked at him.

I nodded and set the glass pitcher full of lemonade down on the table, wiped my hands on the kitchen towel, then left to the door.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?! I shouldn't have yelled—!"

I opened the door and Finn almost fell forward. "You are yelling." I told him, no emotion laced in my tone.
I stepped out onto the porch and he backed up as I closed the door.

"Look, Millie—." He started.

"Are you here to make fun of me being Christian again? Or, about the way I dress? Or, how about—."

"I'm sorry!" He shouted, cutting me off. "I shouldn't have said any of those things." He threw his arms up and I saw there was a packet in his hands.

"What's in your hand?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. He glanced down at his hand.

"It's nothing—."

"Let me see." I interrupted, holding out my hand.

"No. I'm here to apologize—."

"Let me see what's in your hand." I said angrily.

"Millie—." I snatched the packet out of his hand and looked at what's on it.

F.

I scoffed, seeing that it's a test he failed. "You're not here to apologize because you feel bad about what you said; you're here because you need me to tutor you." I shook my head.