It's Always You

chapter ten

Faith Cameron

Today is Saturday and I don't have to get up early to go to school. I'm pretty sure my parents have already been home. I reach for my phone, and it's eleven in the morning.

I go to the bathroom to freshen up and decide to stay in my room. I'm not ready to go downstairs and face them yet.

I'm sure that as soon as they see me, they'll have something to say about me.

Instead, I turn on Netflix and decide to watch 13 Reasons Why again. For some reason, this show has become my favorite.

After a while, my stomach began to growl because I was hungry. I put down my laptop and walked out of my room. I hope they're in their bedroom.

When I get to the kitchen, I open the cupboard and take out the cereal. Then I reach for the milk in the fridge.

"Why are you up so late, young lady?" Here comes my mother's voice.

"Because it's the weekend" I say, secretly rolling my eyes.

"I can see you're rolling your eyes" she states.

"Yeah, I see it too" I reply sarcastically.

"It's not nice to talk to your mom like that, Faith" my dad says sternly, coming out of nowhere.

"Oh Dad, I don't really know how to talk nicely because there's no one around to teach me" I reply.

That's it. I've crossed the line again, because my dad's hand has finally hit me in the face.

I've tears in my eyes, not because I feel guilty for being rude, but because it's hurtful. His hand is so big, and it hurts so damn much.

"You're an ungrateful brat; we worked to give you shelter and food, and this is how you want to repay us?" he said to me.

"Fuck you!" I shouted at him.

I quickly ran out of the house and kept running until my feet hurt. I hate them. I hate them so much. I keep saying these things over and over in my head, not realizing that I'm still crying. Finally, I stopped at the bus stop.

There is no one there. So I sit down on the bench and try to stifle my tears.

I hear a car stop in front of me and I keep my head down, because whoever it is, I don't want them to see me crying.

"Come in." I hear Anzari's voice calling to me.

I lift my head and look at him. His passenger door is open and he's standing next to it.

"No," I reply him.

"Just get in Faith, I'm not kidnapping you" he says to me.

"How do I know you're not going to kidnap me?" I ask as I wipe away my tears.

"Because I'm not a bloody kidnapper. Now get in" he said, holding the door open for me.

I'm not sure it's a good idea to get in his car but I do anyway. I don't want to go home yet so maybe I should follow him.

He closes the door behind me as I get into the car.

"Put your seatbelt on" he says when he's already in the car.

I fasten my seatbelt and he pulls the car off the sidewalk.

My tears had already stopped but I still kept my head to the window because my face was probably red and swollen from crying.

After a while, his car stopped in front of an unknown house. He got out of the car and went to open the door for me. I get out of the car and ask him: "Whose house is this?"

"My house" he replies.

My face contorts in horror. I don't want to go in there. His family is probably there, and I definitely don't want to meet the drug cartel's family.

"I live alone" he said, chuckling

"Your brother's not in here?" I asked curiously.

"No, he just came here on business. He lives with my parents in the other city" he replied.

"And why don't you live with them?" My curiosity won again.

"You're really curious, aren't you?" he said as he went into the house.

I just shrugged my shoulders and followed him into his house. His house is definitely bigger than mine.

The inside of his house is beautiful, and most of it's made of wood. I wonder if he chose this house or not because if he chose it, his taste must be really good.

He led me straight into the kitchen and asked "What do you want to eat?"

How did he know I hadn't eaten breakfast yet?

"No, I'm fine" I replied anyway.

"Pancakes then" he replies casually.

"Sit there" he adds, pointing to the chair at the table.

I do as he says and watch him prepare my breakfast. He looks so good cooking. No awkwardness at all.

After a while, his pancakes were ready. He serves them in front of me and asks: "Do you want maple syrup or chocolate?"

"Chocolate," I reply.

Can't blame me tho. I'm always a chocolate girl. donut? Yes, with chocolate. Drink? Hot chocolate please. Snacks? Just give me fucking chocolate.

He nodded and added Nutella to my pancakes. Then he says, "Eat."

I pick up my fork and start to eat. I almost moan because his pancakes taste so good.

"When you've finished, just put them in the sink. I'll wash them later" he says to me as he walks out of the kitchen.

After a while, my plate was empty. I literally devoured it as if I hadn't eaten for a whole day.

I decided to wash the plate myself because I didn't want to appear ungrateful to him. He literally cooked for me.