Foundation of Dance

Chapter 26

Olivia

Light shined through the slots in the shutters hanging on the window by the bed. My alarm rang in my ears and I blearily threw my arm around, grabbing for my phone to turn it off. The persistent blaring stop and I yawned, stretching out on the bed. I sat up tiredly rubbing my eyes.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I stood up, grabbing my phone and stumbling to the door. 'It's way too early,' I thought, trudging down the hallway. "Morning sleepyhead!" Dad called from the kitchen.

I slumped myself into a chair, watching him kick the pantry and fridge door shut, bringing out cereal and milk. "Hope you like Froot Loops," dad said, pouring some into each bowl before putting in the milk. I shrugged nonchalantly.

"I'm not picky," I remarked. Dad walked over to the table, setting down a spoon and my bowl as I mumbled a thanks.

"And yet you have pineapple on pizza," he remarked.

"It's not that bad!" I protested and dad's mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"Not that bad?" He repeated, sitting down and he pointed his spoon at me. "You young lady, are an anomaly. Pineapple does not belong on a pizza!" He declared before tucking into his cereal with a huff. I rolled my eyes in amusement, digging into my own food.

"As I said last night," dad said after a few minutes and I looked up, once again ignoring the buzzing in my phone, turning it over so it was screen down on the table. "You're not going to school today and I'll call in. You might not even go tomorrow."

I slumped in on myself, furrowing my brows. With everything happening and the court date hardly weeks away, I doubted I would be able to sit still for so long in a cramped apartment. Dad noticed the look on my face and sighed. "Like I said last night, you can still go to work-"

I immediately brightened.

"- but you will be back before 2pm," dad finished with a determined look in his eyes. I immediately deflated, dad sighed, setting down his spoon and standing up. "Olivia, I understand that you need to get out but knowing you, you would work yourself into a hole," dad stated with a hand on my shoulder. I grounded my jaw, gritting my teeth in annoyance. 'He's right,' I thought reluctantly and I slowly nodded.

"I understand," I muttered and dad squeezed my shoulder.

"Good, I washed your clothes from last night so get dressed and I'll drive you to work," he said and I got up, retreating into the laundry to grab my clothes and back into my room. My phone buzzed again and I ignored it, dressing myself and thanking whatever God there was that my clothes were work appropriate.

Brushing the invisible dust off my clothes, I rocked on my feet once, and strode out the door. Dad was already in the living room with his car keys twirling around his finger. "Ready to go?" He asked and I nodded. Dad opened the door, allowing me through and he locked the door behind us.

We took the few flights of stairs down to the apartment parking and to the car. "What's the place of your bookstore called?" Dad asked,

"Parchment," I answered, getting into the car and dad started the engine.

"Oh, that's not too far from here!" Dad exclaimed. "Does the old woman still run the place?" He asked as he pulled into the street.

"Mrs Turner?" I replied, furrowing my brow. "You know her?"

"Well yeah, she's been running the place since it's been open!" Dad chuckled and he sighed, leaning back into the car seat with a fond smile. "The old coot would always put lollies and shit into your pockets when you weren't looking."