CHAPTER SIX
The second her last class had ended Odette had rushed outside, ignoring the rain and shielding the flowers in her hand under her jacket as she marched to the parking lot while searching for her father's blue car.
While she knew her father was disappointed in her, that he rarely even looked at her after the accident, she still needed him. She rarely saw him and she really needed her father today.
She needed someone to care even if she wasn't much to care for.
Her talk with Noel was in the back of her mind. It seemed like he had changed his perspective so fast. It made her confused and it made her feel guilt, guilt that she wasn't performing better and guilt because she wasn't doing better in school. It seemed like people expected her to be good, like the time period of grief being acceptable had passed and she should be back to her old self.
She wondered if Noel cared for her, or if he cared for him. It seemed like her grief, her self sabotage had become something her friends and the people around her couldn't avoid. The responsibility of helping her get better wasn't something anyone wanted, they would rather avoid it and wish their fleeting words would magically make her good.
She really needed to talk to her father.
When fifteen minutes passed, she figured he was stuck at work.
When thirty minutes passed, she figured he was stuck in traffic.
When an hour passed, she assumed he had both been stuck in a meeting and stuck in traffic.
When two hours passed, she forced herself to wait because accepting that he had forgotten her would be the same as crushing her.
The rain was unforgiving, having drenched her completely as she prioritized to shield the flowers. She refused to go inside, going inside would mean accepting the fact that he wouldn't come.
"Odette!"
Hearing her voice being called she felt a sense of hope.
Was it her father?
He didn't forget?
The tall man rushing trough the rain wasn't her father, it was Mr.Giordano. He had become drenched from the rain, his dark hair looking disheveled and his intimidating perfection slipping.
Disappointment struck her hard.
"What the hell are you doing?"
She was taken aback at his hard tone, finding his anger overwhelming.
"I'm waiting for my father." It almost sounded like a question due to her hesitant tone searching for an answer that would please him.
He was intimidating enough to make her want to please him even if she felt conflicted about him.
"You can wait in my office, you'll get sick out here." His words were short and dissonant.
Before she could protest, the man had grabbed her bag and motioned for her to follow. She'd never noticed how long his legs were until she was trying to keep his pace, doing a half run behind him.
