Talk About the Direct Approach...

Chapter Eight: Thanks, Gandhi

*Macy's POV*

"Let me call him."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"I said no," Cayton declared with a tone of finality. However, I was willing to jump through hoops to get a call to my dad.

"Yes! I swear, I will go on a hunger strike or something if you don't let me!" It had been three days since I was forced here, and I knew my dad was most likely going insane. And why hunger strike was the first thing to come to my mind?

Gandhi. Some documentary I watched last night on him. Guess I did learn something.

"I don't think you could," he says condescendingly. I raise an eyebrow challengingly. If there was one thing I hated, it was people underestimating me. It makes me want to prove my point even more.

"Well I will until you let me talk to him." Instead of responding, he abruptly ignores me and starts flipping through channels, before stopping to watch a baseball game. I stood next to the couch with my arms crossed over my chest. When he continued ignoring me I stomped my foot childishly.

"That's it! I'm done! I'm starving myself until you get your head out of your ass and let me call him." Really, I was going to do it. I hate, absolutely hate, that he is taking my threat like it's nothing. And for some reason proving that I'm not joking seems more important than calling my dad.

I stomp out of the room and down one of the many halls I have never been down. I have no idea where I'm going, but I figure I can find a phone somewhere in this mansion. Might as well make sure I wore out my options before I go to such extremities.

The first door I open revealed a game room. As tempting as it was to play some Mario Kart, I was on a mission. Plus it isn't really fun to play by yourself.

The next door I opened revealed a library. Seriously, who has a library in their house? What's next, am I going to open a door to find a water park?

Cayton didn't really strike me as someone who read books, so I wondered what the purpose of this room is. There were more book than I could count on shelves that reached up higher than my comparably small 5'6" height. I decided that maybe there was a desk somewhere in here that had a phone on it, and for all I knew this place had it's own personal Librarian.

Or maybe there was one of those cool bookshelves that open up to a hidden room.

That would be awesome.

It would be even better if it led to a water park.

I was walking through the maze of shelves, too busy thinking about a hidden water park and finding a phone that I didn't notice a person in front of me until I slammed into their back. Hey, I think I found the Librarian!

"Shit, I'm sorry," I groan, rubbing my forehead where it slammed into the back of the guy's head. Mr. Library guy turned around and sent me a smirk, not even fazed that I just head-butted him. Yea, he was definitely not the Librarian. He looked like he was only about sixteen, and his blonde-hair, blue eyed features beared some resemblence to Carter.

"No problem. You're Macy, right?"

"Possibly. Who's asking?" I do recognize the boy from somewhere, but I can't quite place it. It was from somewhere in this house, that's for sure.

"Hunter," he replied, holding out his hand for me to shake. Despite the fact that I found it odd some random boy was running through the library, I shook his hand.