The Boy Next Door

Chapter Eighteen

I was finishing my bowl of Cheerios at the kitchen table when Dad walked in. He was stretching out his back, yawning, and wearing last night's clothes.

"Good night then?" I mumbled before taking my bowl to my mouth to finish the milk.

He flicked on the kettle, grabbed a mug, and popped two aspirin in a glass before filling it with water. "Yeah, you could say that, don't let your mum talk me into going into town again."

I laughed, nearly slamming my bowl down, "You went into town; I thought it was just the usual drink in the Cherry?"

Dad smoothed his balding head with his rough, working hands and circled his temples with his fingertips. "Yes, and it was a bad idea."

"Oh my god, how embarrassing, it's full of teenagers."

"Don't I know it, the last place we went, I had to pay a fiver to get in, and my shoes were sticking to the floor; they're ruined. You could have warned me Thursday was the new Friday."

"Oh, Dad."

"Sssh, my head's pounding, and my ears are still ringing."

"No gardening today then?" I asked, and he shook his head at me, screwing up his nose.

I watched him make his tea, leaving the teabag for way too long. Builders tea, that's how he liked it, me not so much. I was more of the teabag in, teabag out kind of person, with a bit of milk and no sugar.

"So, Dad..." I muttered, and he glanced back at me, furrowing his brows.

"What is it, Ashley?"

"Do you like Olly?"

I was up early, dressed, and ready to go out, considering I had a late prom night. Having slept soundly dreaming of, well, you can guess who, it only made me more eager to see him as soon as possible.

"Um, well, I can tell you do."

I smirked with a slight shrug, "Is that a yes?"

Dad leaned on the kitchen counter, facing me, holding his cloudy water. "I guess there are worse boys that could be dating my sixteen-year-old daughter."

"Worse?"

"Tattoos, drinking, drugs," he muttered.

I blushed a little. "Well, Olly isn't like that."

"That's what I worry about; he's too nice," Dad said.

"If he's not an addict, he will be into sex, and that's the last thing I want, a pregnant sixteen-year-old daughter."

Jeez, Dad's words horrified me; he had never spoken to me like that or about sex. I preferred it when we didn't talk as much; it was much less embarrassing.

"Oh my god, Dad, are you still drunk?" I laughed.

"What? I can see the glistening in your eye and that glow in your face," he paused. "You like him. That's all there is to it. Olly will be the boy who steals you for the summer and takes your innocence, just like I did with your mum."

I cringed. "Oh, dad, no, that won't happen, and anyway, when the time comes, I'm not stupid; I will be safe."

"Nooo, no ideas in my head, please. Just tell me you are watching a film or something, okay?" He downed the aspirin in two gulps before picking up his tea and heading back to the living room.

When he passed me, I looked up at him and said, "I love you, Dad."

"And you, Ashley."

The door went, and I was up out of my seat like a shot. I walked that fast on the laminate flooring; I nearly slipped over.