Chapter 3

1.5K 127 13
                                    

It was silent between Sophia and her father as they sat to dinner that evening. It was quite a large table that could seat six people comfortably. Sophia sat to the one end, taking tentative bites of her lasagne while her father sat on the opposite end with papers surrounding him. He took the occasional bite from his food.

Sophia bit the inside of her cheek. She should be used to the awkward silence by now, but it still didn't stop her from trying to strike up a conversation. 

"So ..." she began as she looked at her father to see him still glancing at his papers. "This lasagne's nice. Where did you buy it?"

He flipped a page and scanned its contents. "Home Industry. Down the road." His deep voice sounded disinterested.

Sophia swallowed. "How's work?"

He shrugged his shoulders, causing Sophia to sigh internally. Maybe ... maybe if she brought out the big guns?

"I met a boy today."

Well, technically bumped into him, but he didn't need to know that. She watched his reaction carefully. He didn't even bat an eyelid at her words. She was hoping he would at least show a little protectiveness. You know those quotes where the dad says he'll get his shotgun ready? But he pretended as though he didn't even hear. "His name's L-"

She was cut off by his phone ringing. He answered instantly.

"Yes?"

Sophia slumped back in her seat. Was it wrong of her to be jealous of a phone?  She sat quietly as she listened to his conversation. "Alright. No, that's not a problem. I'm on my way."

Sophia looked up to see her father stand and push in his chair.

"You're leaving?" Sophia asked, but he completely ignored her and walked off to his room. A minute later he returned with a duffle-bag over one shoulder and pulled on his boots. "Bye," Sophia said. 

The door clicking closed was her answer.

She shifted forward in her seat and leaned her face against her hand propped up by her elbow. "Five words. New record," she muttered dryly and pushed her barely eaten food away from her, the fork dropping with a loud clink in the quiet house. 

She wasn't that hungry anyway.

-

Sophia opened her eyes slowly as her alarm blared the next morning. She switched it off and sat up in her bed, raking a hand through her blonde hair as she looked around her new room. They moved here two nights ago so her room mainly consisted of boxes and a single bed.  She sighed. When she gets home later today she'll have to sort through them. She really didn't even see the point anymore: they'll be leaving soon anyway.

Bracing herself for the morning chill, Sophia moved the covers aside and chose an outfit for the day. It wasn't a difficult task as her wardrobe consisted mainly of leather jackets, jeans and boots. The more girly clothes were reserved for Sundays only.

Giving herself a once-over in her mirror, she deemed herself ready and walked to the kitchen for something to eat. On her way she glanced into her father's bedroom. She didn't know why she was disappointed to see the neatly-made bed. It was to be expected that he would stay over-night with that duffle-bag. The sad thing about the situation was she would've thought the room, if she didn't know that he actually lived here, was a guestroom with how bare it looked.

She guessed that was what got to her. 

Three nights they've been here and he has practically moved into the base already. She wished that she could blame his absence on the fact that he had to deal with many things at his new workplace, but she knew that it will only get worse. The longer they stay anywhere, the less she ends up seeing him. That was the one nice thing about moving: at least she saw a bit more of her father for the first little while.

She shook her head and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. She found it so ironic how her father refused to let her live on her own yet didn't even realise that she was already. She took a bite of her apple as she leaned against the counter.

She had always pondered his reasoning over treating her the way he did. She wracked her brain over it countless times. She wasn't a bad girl. She was obedient, did well in school, never complained. So why was he like this to her?

The truth was she thought it was all linked to her mother - Elizabeth Fleming. It was obvious her father loved her mother, and the harsh reality of the situation was that her mother would still be here ... if she was never born. Sophia had inadvertently been her mother's murderer.

The fact that her father probably hated her because of that left a deep wound in her heart. A wound that she so desperately wanted to heal. That was why she worked so hard on her grades, she wanted her father to acknowledge her as more than the baby who took her mother's life. She wanted to be seen as her own person.

Sophia looked at the clock next to the fridge and finished her apple. She did her usual morning routine and grabbed her backpack and jacket, making her way to her bike. She opened the garage door with the remote while she placed her helmet on her head and pulled on her gloves.

The garage door was open by the time she climbed on her bike and kicked up the stand peg. She let the bike roll back and closed the garage door before turning the key.

The engine purred to life and she smiled. She loved her bike. It was the only thing that made her feel happy in the world.

-

Sophia slowed as she found a parking and let her bike glide into it before cutting the engine. She noticed a few bikes on either side of her and saw a group of boys chatting a little way away, holding their helmets in their hands while girls clustered around them.

She kicked down the stand peg and took note that the group was now looking at her, probably realising this bike was new here. She threw her leg over the side and pulled off her gloves and finally her helmet. She had to resist rolling her eyes when the boys' mouths hung open when they noticed it was a girl riding, and a blonde no less.

The girls sent her dirty looks when they realised she had taken all the boys' attention, but she just ignored them and raked a hand through her flattened hair. She was used to it. It was the same as every other school. Nothing new.

She walked past the group without so much as glancing at them until a familiar voice called out to her. "Hey, nice bike you've got there."

She turned and saw Luke smiling at her, helmet tucked under his arm. 

Okay, that was new. No-one has ever complimented her bike (probably jealous because theirs wasn't as nice) nor the fact that it was a jock riding a bike who said it. They normally drove cars to be able to drive more girls around so that they could hang all over them.

Although Sophia never had a boyfriend, she knew that if a guy lets you ride his bike with him, you must be someone special. Riding on a bike is a lot more intimate than being in a car. Jocks never have anyone special.

"Thanks," she said and inclined her head once in acknowledgement of his compliment before turning and walking off, ignoring the piercing and heated gazes of the girls on her back.


Dear DiaryWhere stories live. Discover now