Book Girl and Chestnut Boy

Chapter Twelve

A man in a sharp-looking grey suit, minus the tie, stood between a couple book stands, a few feet from the counter. There was a hefty volume in his hands, although it was angled so that May could only see the top side and the back cover at too steep a slant to make anything out.

It was Dad, although he looked so much older than she remembered. Wrinkles lined his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. His hair was still all black and she now figured he'd been telling the truth about it being dyed because she couldn't see even a bit of white despite the evidence of age on his face.

For a second, she lost the ability to speak. Her throat felt dry and scratchy, probably with the oiliness of the meal she'd just had and the cold drink she'd thrown back on top of it. She swallowed and turned to face him fully, not sure what to do in this situation. She'd seen movies and TV shows where teenagers lost their shit after being reunited with parents who'd abandoned them but she didn't think she could do that. Why air your dirty laundry in public, in a loud voice so that everybody in the general vicinity could hear? Besides, she had no idea how he'd react to that. The thought of someone getting angry at her and showing it, regardless of how well-deserved her outbursts would be, made her hesitant. "...Dad."

For a few long seconds, he just stared. A slow, shy smile spread across his lips and he took a half-step towards her. "It's...It's really good to see you. You've grown!"

Naturally, it had been five years since she'd last seen him. In that time, she had hit puberty but the growing still wasn't stopping! News of the century!

...Okay, at least she knew one thing. She was definitely annoyed, although it remained to be seen if this would morph into full-blown anger.

"Yeah..." she mumbled.

His gaze fell on her and Layton's joined hands and then rose to Layton's face. He smiled at Layton. "Are you...her boyfriend?"

"Yeah, so what?" Layton said, so irreverent that May grimaced.

Dad just chuckled. "...It's just nice to know. What's your name?"

May surprised herself by giving Layton a gentle push towards the door. She didn't want Dad to know. "Um...We...We've got to go," she mumbled.

"Oh. Ah...Well, would you like to meet sometime?"

She looked back. He looked so open and honest, a genuine-looking smile curving his lips. She almost turned back, before she remembered Sam and the fact that he'd duped Mum for so long.

Up yours, old man, she thought. Instead, she gave him a jerky nod and said, "Maybe we'll run into each other again. Bye."

"Right...Bye, May. It was lovely to see you."

She walked out of there, barely aware that she held Layton's hand. She walked a long time, not quite sure where she was going but not wanting to stop anywhere where Dad might easily catch up. After a couple of blocks, Layton finally called for her to stop. He pulled her back and, surprised, she stumbled back into him.

"Talk to me." he said, holding her by the shoulders again.

She took deep breath, feeling tears prickling her eyes. "What a douche!" she cried. She affected a deep voice, ""Oh, hey May, long time so see. You've grown!" Like, duh! No shit!"

"I absolutely agree," Layton said, "what a tit." The seriousness of the situation was undermined, however, by the little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you smirking at?" she demanded.

He put his hands up, looking overly shocked. "I wasn't smirking!"

She put her hands on her hips. "You think this is funny?"

At this, the quirking of his lips bloomed into a full-blown smile. "I'm sorry!" he said quickly, when she scowled. "It's just that you look so cute when you're mad!"

"Layton, this is serious!"

He cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes. Very." Then he pulled her cheeks. "Aww, look at you! Adorable!"

She swatted his hands away. "I just saw my father after five years, Late!"

He immediately sobered. "Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood."

She groaned. "What am I supposed to do in a situation like that? I totally blanked! Of all places, why the bloody...? As if he's...Argh, it's so typical! I see him after so long and the first thing I see him doing is buying a book!"

"Like father, like daughter?"

"I don't want to be like him!"

"...Right. Sorry."

"And then he casually says we should meet again sometime, as if he's diligently been stalking the bookstore in the hopes that he'd bump into me at some point so he could arrange a further meeting!"

"Do you need to punch something?"

"Yeah, him."

He put his hands up towards her. "Go on. I'll give you a free shot."

She stared at him blankly. He nodded at his hands. What, was she supposed to punch his hands? She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No thanks. Come on, let's just go."

They started walking again. The conversation eventually turned around to college. Justin's cinema trip would be one of these days – after bugging people about it for days, he'd finally gotten three quarters of the class to agree. Susie Hammonds now appeared to be best friends with Sarah and Jenny, the two girls she had to sit with in Lit. They would be going.

"Remember Justin making a joke about them?" Layton said. "Like a fat sandwich with a tiny slice of bacon in the middle."

She hadn't thought it was funny and she did not shy away from telling him so.

"It's just a joke," he grumbled.

"Would you say it to their faces?"

"...Probably not."

"Because it's hurtful! So don't say it about them behind their backs either."

He nudged her with his elbow. "Come on, don't be a wet blanket. It's just a joke. People joke about me being a thug all the time."

"And it bothers you, doesn't it?"

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. But she knew the truth. Everybody knew he'd been to juvie now so they either avoided him and talked about him when they thought he couldn't hear, or they just straight up ignored him. Sometimes it got to him – they'd had one incident last week when someone from his chemistry class had passed by in the cafeteria and said, "Oh, look, it's the criminal!" out of nowhere and loudly enough to garner a few curious looks from other students, and May had had to pull him back. He'd had a murderous look on his face and he confided later that he'd been hearing a lot of it and it was getting harder to hold back.

"So you should care," she said. "Don't be like those people who say stuff about you."

"Yeah, and if I do care? Nobody gives a shit about me caring, May. It doesn't matter. People say what they want so I'll say what I want."

She slipped her arm around his elbow. "I care."

He gave her a quick glance. The firm, displeased set of his mouth softened. "...Yeah. I guess that's something."

She flicked his nose. "Something? Just something?"

"What? Fine, it matters a whole lot."

She poked the corner of his lips and felt relieved when she managed to tease a smile out of him. It sometimes felt like he disappeared into a dark part of himself. When conversations died down, he could at times be found staring off into space, the subtle changes in his expression reflecting the turmoil within. When he came back out, he always smiled at her if he found her watching, as though he was happy that things had changed, although if these were his actual realisations, they didn't stop the troubled musings.

He shrugged her arm off and took her hand."Shall we go get some ice cream?"