September 2nd, 2011
"What?!" My father shouts in anger as he parks the car. Seconds later, my dad looks loving into my eyes after parking the car. "Baby, how long has this been going on?" He asks me, worriedly. I looked up into my father's eyes, feeling frightened and gulped back the nervous lump in my throat before speaking.
"Se-seven years." I stutter as I look back down at my lap. Okay, so, that's not how it happened. Let's rewind this a bit, shall we?
"Why is your bag so heavily?" He questioned, sounding confused. I feel my body tense, and my stomach clench from a sudden burst of nervousness.
"I had a lot of extra-credit homework to do last night," I respond quietly, hoping he'd buy the lie I told him because I didn't want to answer any follow-up questions, which means that I'd have to spew more lies. My father looked at me with a suspicious expression on his face.
"Why don't you slow up on the extra-credit homework, baby?" He questioned rhetorically before going onto speak. "I don't want you having any shoulder or back issues at such a young age." My father, Sam, states as he glances over at me for a brief moment. I mentally release a sigh of relief because he bought the story I just told him. We pulled up to school minutes later, and my father parked the car into a single parking space.
"What are you doing?" I narrow my eyes in confusion. My father grabbed my backpack and opened his car door to get out.
"Carrying your bag for you, so you do have to." He responds, exiting the car. My dad's awesome! I exit the car and venture into school with my loving father by my side. I smile over at him in happiness, happiness that I feel whatever he's around me.
"Z, baby, are you okay?" My father asks, his face gleaming with concern as we made the journey toward my looker.
"Of course," I frown in confusion. "Why?"
"Because you're smiling like it's raining cotton-candy outside." My father states, eyeing me suspiciously while making fun of my unhealthy obsession with cotton-candy at the same time. I giggle, happily before responding.
"I'm fine. I'm just happy and thankful that you're always here for me." I tell my father, feeling thankful. He took his left hand and brought it down to my face and stroked my right cheek gently.
"I will always be here for you, I promise." My father tells me lovingly while looking down at me quickly as we walked down the hall. A few moments later, we reached my locker, and I immediately put in my locker combination. Once it becomes accessible, I kindly ask my father to place my bag in the bottom, right corner of my locker. I reach into the upper part of my locker for my English text-book, which is on the medium-sized shelf. However, for me to reach the top shelf of my locker, I have to resort to using my tippy-toes all the time because I'm so short. Once I had my text-book in hand, I sunk back down onto the soles of my shoes and shut my locker. I hate being short! I inwardly pout.
"I could've gotten that for you, baby I'm standing right here." My father stated, finding humor in my shortness as a playful smirk became apparent on his face. I playfully rolled my eyes at him while giving off a small smile.
"Very funny," I narrow my eyes at him. "Well, I guess I should go before I'm late," I said as I clutch the text-book to my chest.
YOU ARE READING
Zoe. | Recharged. | Book One.
Romance"Why me?" Zoe is continuously asking herself this question; because of her situational circumstances. Zoe Bryant is a timid, yet curious 17-year old girl, who once had a zest for life. Furthermore, Zoe's once vibrant personality has been tarnished b...
