Trinity High (Book 1 of the Trinity Series)

Chapter 5

"Caley Lucia?" I heard my name being called.

I glanced up from the Calculus problem I was trying to work out. It was really difficult and I could feel a throbbing headache creeping in. Trey wouldn't help me with the problem; he was already finished with the assignment. I think he was mad at me, which was perfectly fine with me. If he wanted to ignore me, then that was just perfect. At least now I wouldn't have to put up with him.

"Yes?" I answered.

"You're being called to the dean's office," Professor Mika said. I furrowed my brow. Great. Another fun meeting with my father.

I gathered up my things and walked out the door, taking the hall pass from Mika. Then I slowly trudged through the hallways, dragging my feet. I had an enormous headache. It had only been about three weeks of classes, but I was already bogged down with a mountain of homework. I guess I brought it on myself. I took to slacking in the time I should do homework. And then before I knew it, it would be nighttime and I'd be staying up into the late hours of the night doing homework. I probably averaged about four hours of sleep a night.

I walked into the office and showed the pass to the secretary, who told me to go inside. I pushed open the heavy wooden door to my father's office and stood in front of his desk. He was on the phone.

"--and it should happen soon, right?" he was asking. He nodded, putting up a finger asking me to wait, and listened for a moment to the person on the other end. "Yes, yes. I'm prepared. I've been through this several times before. All right. Yes, I'll talk to you after," he said. Then he hung up and looked up at me.

"Go ahead and sit for a bit," he said to me. I let out a dramatic sigh, showing to him that I didn't want to be there. We both sat there and stared at each other for a few long moments, not saying anything.

"You look tired. Have you not been sleeping well?" he asked me. I shrugged.

"I have a lot of work to do and not enough hours in the day to do it," I replied.

"You're wearing your contacts," he said, pointing at my face. "I thought you didn't like your contacts?" he asked. I frowned in confusion.

"My glasses broke. How'd you know I didn't like contacts?" I questioned, scrutinizing his face. He averted his eyes and looked down at his papers. His slanted, caligraphy writing filled the top page. I remembered as a young girl, I had always been fascinated by my father's writing. I told him I wanted to write just like him when I grew up. Guess what happened?

I now wrote like him.

He looked back up at me with the same eyes as my own.

"Why'd you call me here?" I asked him, not waiting to hear his answer to my other question.

"Well, I was wondering if you needed any money or anything," he said. I looked at him in confusion again.

"I'm not doing drugs. I don't need money for anything--" I said. He raised his eyebrows at this, slightly amused.

"I didn't mean it like that. You get to go to town tomorrow afternoon. I thought maybe you'd need money to buy somethings," he told me.

"Why would I need to buy anything?" I asked. All I needed were my glasses fixed. And I had enough money for that. He looked a little surprised.

"Homecoming is in two weeks, though," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"Yeah. The Yellow Moonlight Dance?" he said. I looked at him blankly. "How do you not know that homecoming is coming up? Especially with Abbey as your roommate," he asked me.