I HATE YOUR GUTS ☆

Chapter 2 ☆

still just setting the scene

song #2: august by Taylor Swift

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He never did apologize. He never said anything, actually. I wish I could say it didn't hurt, but it did. A lot. It was okay though, because he was wrong about me and Jackson, we were together. We loved each other, and I knew everything was going to be alright. Knowing that was enough for me to board the plane, with only a bit of resentment towards my father. There were a few tears; I'm emotional, so sue me.

The flight from New York to Colorado was around four hours, but it felt much longer than that. When we finally did arrive, all I wanted was to turn around and fly back home, but unfortunately that wasn't an option.

"So," my dad said, looking at me for the first time in those four hours, "Here we are."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, "Yes, here we are."

"Don't sass me."

"Sorry."

"Look I kno-"

My mom was a master of changing the subject, thank god; "So, you know, I heard there are some amazing restaurants located near our new house. Why don't we go out to eat tonight?"

"Mary, we have a lot of unpacking to do, today might not be a good day."

"Yes, I am well aware of all the unpacking we have to do but I want to go out to eat tonight. You are more than welcome to stay home."

He snorted, "So what, you're going to eat dinner alone?"

"Of course not, Audrey will come with me. Won't you?"

"Oh um, sure."

"See? So actually, you will be eating alone."

I bit my lip to contain the smile fighting to form.

He hesitated, "Fine, let's go out to eat."

"Great! Now, let's go get our luggage."

Sometimes I wondered if my parents were actually in love, or if it was all an illusion. I wasn't sure how someone as sweet as my mom could love someone as solemn as my dad, but seeing the slight smirk appear on my dad's face assured me there was another side to him. A side I had never seen before. I liked to think maybe he was just as sweet as my mom, and he was just hard on me because I was his daughter. It didn't really matter though.

What did matter was that my mother was a total liar. The food sucked ass. For the first time I actually wished my dad had fought my mom harder on something.

"How's the food?" my mom asked, smiling at us. I loved her smile, I always have. I remember when I was younger, I used to stand in the mirror attempting to mimic it. It never worked though, it always went back to the same goofy, lopsided line that was in fact, my smile.

"It's good," my dad replied, his eyes darting to me. I met his gaze, and scrunched my nose.

I turned to look at my mother who had the biggest grin on her face.

I laughed, "Why're you smiling?"

"It's just," she smiled, shaking her head, "I love when you guys do that."

"Do what?"

"Speak through your eyes."

I snorted, "That is not what's happening."

"Okay," she said, still smiling.

"But if it is, he's telling me that he actually thinks the food is disgusting."