Roots - h.s

3.

                                       I can't read you
                            but
                                     if you want

          the pleasures all mine.

STERLING'S POV:

*Play Bags by Clairo*

    I walk down the stairs and pull out the frozen pancakes just like I had done yesterday. Today I have my hair in a braid down my back, and a flowy tank top this time. Still shorts though. I see my dad sitting at the table, and I'm already not wanting to hear him rant about me going outside again... So I don't say anything, I just make my pancakes.

    "Good morning." He speaks out.

    "Morning." I close the microwave, and sit back, waiting for the pancakes to finish just as I always do. "We're almost out of pancakes." I tell him.

    "Well why don't you make them from scratch like you used to do? You loved making pancakes." He tells me.

    "I'm still making them... I'm just making them.. with a microwave... Same thing." I tell him, and he shakes his head.

    "It's not the same Ster." He laughs, and I shrug.

    "Well it's less of a mess this way." I tell him.

    "I'd gladly clean up the mess if it meant you were doing something you used to love doing." He tells me.

    "I'm still doing something I used to love... Making the treehouse. I don't have time to cook pancakes." I tell him.

    "Did you meet the neighbors yet?" He asks, ignoring my comment about the treehouse, and I nod my head in response.

    "The guy my age? He keeps telling me stupid facts about the most random stuff... He's weird dad." I tell him. My dad turns around to me, and thins his eyes.

    "You... Sterling King are telling me that he's weird... You are telling me this? The kid who used to hold her moms bra over eyes and call herself a fruit fly?"

    "Okay dad, I was a kid, it's not the same thing... He's just odd." I shrug.

    "Well maybe he needs friends." He suggests.

    "He already has friends... That's what it seems like anyway." I shrug, taking my pancakes out.

    "Well it seems like you want some more friends from that tone of voice." He tells me.

    "I don't need friends. I have the treehouse, and the stars." I mumble to myself, starting to cut up my breakfast.

    "The treehouse isn't built, and the stars don't talk back Ster... I love you, I just want you to be happy again." He shrugs his shoulders, and I do the same.

    "The treehouse is built YET, and the stars can't talk back but they can listen.." I speak to myself, and he walks forward. He pulls my head into him, and kisses my forehead, walking past me.

    "Please be careful... I'm going to the office for a bit. Call me if you need me, you know I can be here right away if I have to." He speaks quickly, and I nod my head.

    "Bye Jason." I wave.

    "Sterling." He gives me eyes, and points his fingers at me.

    "Bye dad." I roll my eyes, and take the plate to the sink, washing it off. I hear the door open and close, then lock right behind him. I let Jon out of his crate, and open the back door, watching him run straight into the yard, barking at the birds, or the wind, or whatever the hell dogs bark at. "Jon!!! Inside voice please!" I yell out, walking into the yard.