Chapter three: home... this isn't home anymore.

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*Mika's pov.*

Soon enough, I arrive home. I go to open the door but, it's locked. Dad must not be home yet.

I begin digging through my tote bag looking for the keys.

 When I finally find them, I unlock the door and just as I'm about to head inside, I hear a motorbike pull into the driveway. I turn around.

Heath.

I don't know why I thought he wouldn't show up, but I did.

I shut the door and walk over to him.

"hi." I give an awkward wave.

He rolls his eyes in return. Then he gets off his bike and sets his helmet on the handle bars.

"Okay, well, do you wanna come inside and get started?" I tilt my head in question.

"Whatever." Why is this guy so rude to me? what did I ever do to him? Maybe he's just rude to everyone?

I begin walking towards to front door and he follows after me. I glance back for a moment and see him looking around the area, specifically at my garden, it's not very big, but I like the occasional time with the flowers.

"You like gardening?" He asks. I think that's an improvement.

"Yeah." I open the door and walk in holding the door open for him, he follows after.

"interesting..." I don't think he's talking about the gardening anymore, he seems to be taking in the house, though it's nothing special, especially to his rich eyes. I wouldn't say that me and my dad were poor, but we're definetly not rich.

"So, where do you want to work? Kichen or my room? Although that would be kinda weird since we barly know eachother, but I don't have any strange inten-" I'm cut off by him.

"Your room is fine. Show the way." He makes a pathway gesture with his hands.

I begin waling down the hallway to my room. Opening the door I walk in and he follows close after.

My room is definitly not anything like the ones you would see on pinterist. Like I said me and my father are light on money. It has a plain white bookshelf, a single bed thats on the larger side, a desk, and my dresser.

He also seems to be inspecting this.

"Your room is...nice. I'm guessing you read a lot?" He's actually asking me things. Trying to make conversation.

"I do. What about you, do you read?" I ask.

"No. Why waste time and money on them? reading is boring."

"It is not boring." I try to find an argument to use but I can't say anything without making this a personal conversation.

"See, you can't find a reason. What kind of stuff do you read anyway?" He asks. I stay silent. I'm not about to tell him that I read mostly romance with a pop of fantasy in there, sometimes even dystopian. He also stays silent watching me. I let out a breath and decide to spill.

"Mostly romance, sometimes a little dystopian, fantasy. War stuff. I mean, it really just depends on my mood." He tilts his head; his gaze is calculating.

"I can tell, you look like the kind of girl to read romance." He then walks over to my bookshelf, looking out of place in my smaller room. He inspects the spines of the books, looking at the names and colours. 

My brain tells me that what he said was an insult, but I brush it off. Romance is a fun subject to read.

"Okay...The project? we should get stated." I give a nod in response.

"We should. We're still doing H20, right?" This time he nods. This got awkward all of a sudden.

I walk over to my bed where I had put my bag. Pulling out my science stuff, then sitting on my bed.

"You can sit at my desk, is that okay?" I tilt my head; I think I do that in awkward situations. He then proceeds to sit at my desk not a word being said.

After a while we get into a feel for working with each other, I end up doing all the talking and he just writes down what I've been saying.

After about an hour I hear the front door open and footsteps coming towards my room. Dad must be home. And just like it's on cue he walks in. His expression is not one of happiness, let's be real it never is. His expression is more one of shock and a slight hint of anger.

"Hi, dad." I smile.

"Mika, can I talk to you for a second? alone." I look at heath then back at my dad, then I stand from my bed and begin walking out of the room.

"I'll be right back." With that I walk out of my room and my dad follows. We ge to the kichen and he stands still. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yes. Your project partner is a boy. I thought we'd established the rules about boys? Did you forget them?" I take a sharp breath.

"It's for a project, dad, and I couldn't pick my partner." He lets out a strong breath and a catch a Wiff of alcohol. Thats why he's late home from work. Great.

"I don't care." His voice loudens slightly. "You will go to your teacher tomorrow and ask for a partner change. Got it?"

"Yes." My voice comes out smaller than I'd hoped.

"And since you will be switching partners tomorrow, you might as well kick the boy out." His voice is firm. I nod slowly. "Also, I have something else to tell you so when the boy is gone I will, okay?"

"Okay." With that I walk back to my room.

"Um, sorry for making you wait, but I have some stuff to deal with so could you leave?" I say hesitantly.

He gives me a cold, calculating stare. back to square one, I guess. 

He gives me a nod, with that he begins packing up his stuff and before I know it, he's leaving.

"Thank you for coming" I say awkwardly, standing in the doorway. He nods again and starts driving off on his bike. I don't think that went to bad.

I walk back inside with a small smile, but the look on my dads face wipes that smile off.

"So, what did you want to tell me?" I fidget with my hands.

"I lost my job, so you'll have to pick up more hour's at the bakery." My eyes widen. I can't do that, I'm already struggling to do school and my job, picking up more hour's would cause my grades to drop. I can't afford that.

"Dad, I can't do that, I have school and stuff. Can't you get another job? I mean, I just can't d-" I'm cut off by a sharp slap across the face. My eyes go wider.

"Don't talk back to me." He's states in a firm, agitated voice.

I gulp. He's never hit me before. mean sure he yells a lot, that's normal though, right?

"Sorry." Tears threaten to fall, but I hold them tightly in my eyes. "I'll call Sandie in the morning and ask if I'm able to pick up more hours."

"Good. Now go to your room." He snaps, treating me like a child that needs to be put in time out. I still do what he says though, I walk back to my room and shut my bedroom door when I hear te sharp sound of the front door slam shut. He must've left.

I let out a loud sob. Tears stream down my face. It's not even the fact that the slap hurt, It hurts more knowing he's the one who delivered it. My own father. I don't know what to think or do, so I lock my, already shut, bedroom door and lay on my bed.

Fall asleep. Fall asleep. Fall asleep.

I beg my brain to switch off and wake me up from my nightmare. But I stay awake, stuck in what I wish was a nightmare.

Eventually I drift into the darkness.

Authers noteee

So, everyone the 'yet' in the description has happened. 

Love y'all. :)

WORD COUNT: 1324.

(Edited. :))



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