The President's Daughter

Chapter Fifty-Three: Protests for Love

Chapter Fifty-Three: Protests for Love

“How was your week, electronically free?” My father asked, Thomas.

Thomas shrugged, looking down at his pasta. “It was good.”

“What about you, Alice? How is homeschooling treating you, again?” He asked, taking a mouthful of pasta.

“It was good.” I said, repeating my brother’s words.

My dad nodded his head in return, not asking anymore questions. The only sounds of our forks hitting the plate as we ate our pasta in silence.

My parents had arrived from England quarter to midnight yesterday. Ricky said that they were going to arrive home around eight. But, he was wrong so we had rushed home for no reason.

They wanted to have a family dinner, considering they haven’t seen us all week. My mom thought it would be a good idea for us to catch up. But, there was nothing more I wanted right now to go back to my room and creep boys on boys on twitter.

Our quiet dinner was interrupted when a guard rushed into the room looking a little frazzled. “I am so sorry for interrupting your dinner Sir.” He said, addressing my father. “But, there seems to be protests happening outside the gates.”

My father had stood up from his seat, looking at the guard quite confused. “Protests about what, exactly?” My father, asked.

The guard shook his head, “Not about what. About whom.”

“Can you explain further, Richard?” My mother asking, becoming interested with the situation.

“There’s a young boy outside, probably around the age of eighteen or nineteen. He is leading a protest with a group of teenagers outside. However, the protests are not of threat. They are quite the opposite actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Sir, the protests are for your daughter.”

My eyes widened, as I almost choked on my pasta. All eyes in the room were now on me, “The protests are for me?”

“Why don’t you all come take a look?” The guard said, motioning for us to follow him.

My father quickly walked after him. Thomas and I looked at each other before quickly getting up and running after our father and the guard, with are mother in tow.

The guard led us to the living room window. It had a good view of the gates, he held the curtains away from the window to give us a good look.

My father went first, as Thomas and I quickly went beside him looking out the window as well. I saw exactly what Richard had described.

The protesters were holding up signs a few of them said protests for love. Others carried pictures of my face or either hearts which were broken.

“Alice do you know those people?’ My father asked, sounding quite agitated.

I shook my head, my eyes on the boy with the bullhorn. “Yeah.” I whispered, “That’s Gavin.”

I heard my mother let out a squeal from beside me. “The same Gavin who you have feelings for?”

“She has feelings for whom?” My father asked, but I ignored him staring at the boy who captured my heart.

I heard my father and mother mumble some things to each other. But, I had paid no attention, my eyes focusing only on Gavin.

“I will be right back,” I muttered turning away from the window and walking out of the room.

I heard sounds of feet hitting the floor, knowing that my parents were close behind me. “Where do you think you are going?” My father demanded.