Hide (Sequel to RUN)

Chapter 11

Now what was I going to tell Dad?

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"Where were you?" Dad's voice seemed to echo around the house. My body reacted to the anger in his voice. I stiffened, playing through my story again. It was mostly the truth. Just a couple of perk-ups here and there.

"I come bearing gifts!" I screamed, raising the milk and chips above my head. Dad appeared a second later, just like a dark cloud approaching.

"We didn't ask you to get groceries," Dad growled, walking up to meet me in the middle of the room.

"I got them anyway," I snapped, pushing past him into the kitchen. He grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face him.

"It doesn't take over two hours to get a half a gallon of milk and five bags of chips."

"It does when you do it with friends." I ripped my arm out of his grip and continued on to the kitchen.

"The food is junk, Lekia!" he screamed, snatching the grocery bags out of my hands. I'd emptied out my backpack before coming in, so it was possible for him to grab them easily.

"Well good thing it's not for you!" I yelled, turning around and plucking them tenderly from his hands.

"Who are they for then?" He was fuming. I set my goods on the counter and spun around to face him. "Sleepover with some friends later this week. The milk is for the family."

"Which friends?" He was still exasperated, but calming down. I could see the gears in his head turning. But I'd thought this through ahead of him. I was going to be two steps ahead this time.

"You can count on your fingers how many friends I have, Dad. Out of those, you can exclude the guys."

"You're not going," he smirked, then turned his back on me.

"So you don't want me to have social experience? I thought that's what all those dances were for," I called after him. His footsteps slowed.

"It's a social experience. If you want me to be special ops or C.I.A. or something along those lines, then I need to handle things like this." He stopped at this.

"How do you expect me to know social norms if I'm a recluse?" I finally asked, throwing the final metaphorical punch. He turned around at this. I set my face neutral, then grabbed the milk and went to the fridge.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll take the chips back and cancel the plans." I couldn't seem too eager to go. I'd given my reasons for going. Now I had to show that I really didn't care if I went or not. I just wanted the training.

Maybe he would be desperate enough to believe it.

Maybe.

"You're forgetting that I have to monitor your vitals and give you a wire."

"I was already planning on that," I called over my shoulder. I poured myself a glass of milk, put the half-gallon back in the fridge, and turned to my dad.

He stared me down.

I simply sipped my glass of milk.

Say no. I dare you.

"Do you still have your old sleepover stuff?" he asked, coming over and leaning on the island.

"From when I was, what, five?"

"Didn't you have one when you were ten?" he smiled.

"I managed to ditch the pajamas since you didn't want to make some new ones," I laughed. "But you can just tell me what you put in it. I'll make it and you'll inspect it."