Defending Parker

[Chapter 3]

Chapter 3

The purple and grey eyes of Freya Collins and the mysterious guy were imprinted in my mind for the rest of the day, from the moment I left the school’s parking lot to the time when I slipped underneath my covers at night, they were there in the back of my mind.

It took a while for me to fully fall asleep, with my mind running and my worries about starting a new school going unvoiced, I felt like my brain was running its own track marathon. When my brain finally shut down and I was able to close my eyes, I felt myself float easily into dreamland.

Waking up the next morning, everything seemed normal. The mysterious pair of eyes was no longer at the forefront of my mind, and I was able to get up feeling everything but exhausted. Deciding to skip my routine morning run, I took a quick shower, pulling my hair up into a messy bun, and brushing my teeth before opening my closet in search of an outfit for the day.

I wasn’t a super girly girl when it came to clothes, as I was just as comfortable in a pair of jeans as I was in a baggy pair of jeans. Pulling on a cozy jumper and a pair of black leggings after a second of hesitation, I applied the tiniest bit of makeup before heading downstairs for breakfast.

“Hey dad,” I greeted as I walked into the kitchen and saw my dad in front of the stove, cooking away. “What are you still doing here?”

He turned his attention from the stove to me for a moment and smiled. “Good morning Jill,” he said in return before replying to my question. “And because it’s my first day on the job, I only have a quick introductory meeting at ten with my new boss and a few other colleagues before I actually start work tomorrow.”

Nodding along as he spoke, I walked over to him and peaked over his shoulder to see what he was cooking. “So, you’re saying you have time to make me breakfast?” I asked, seeing pancakes frying in the pan on the stove.

“Are chocolate chip pancakes a good enough breakfast for you?” he asked teasingly as he sprinkled a handful of chocolate chips onto of the pancakes before flipping them over.

Letting loose a fairly embarrassing squeal, I gave my dad a quick kiss on the cheek as he laughed at my excitement.

Almost skipping over to the fridge, I started to gather the other things we needed for breakfast: the orange juice, the milk, the butter, and the syrup. By the time I had set the table with plates and utensils, my dad was sliding a finished stack of pancakes onto the table as I slid into my chair across from him.

“This smells so good,” I commented randomly, piling three pancakes onto my plate as the scent wafted off of them and into the kitchen.

My dad chuckled as he sat down across from me. “And they probably taste good too.”

Rolling my eyes, I simply smiled at my dad and bit into my pancakes. We sat there in silence as we ate. It wasn’t often that I got to eat breakfast with my dad, as he worked so often and had to leave early in the mornings, but when I did I appreciated it because he really was the only family I had left.