I'll Never Walk That Runway

Chapter 4

OH MY GEESH!! I'M NUMBER 98 IN TEEN FICTION!!! THANK YOU YOU AWESOME PEOPLE!

And I'm really happy with all the comments and votes I already have!!!!!!

Sorry. You guys probably don't want me to blab....You must be thinking,"Shut up and get to the book already!" or you may be skipping this entire part...  

Okay! Here's the story!

( I dont really know what a rehab place is like...but I tried)

Next chapter WILL BE UPLOADED TODAY...or tomorrow...or the day after that..... :o )

^^^^ That was epically pointless...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter 4

I ditched school the next day, biking the ten miles to the rehab center.

I honestly didn't care if anyone I knew saw me. I just needed to get there.

Half an hour later, I arrived, sweaty and tired. 

The building was quite plain: block shaped, white, with an iron gate in the front.

I half dashed, half stumbled inside towards a bored-looking receptionist.

"Hi," I said

She didn't look up.

I coughed. "Hello," I said again, a little more forcefully.

"Oh. Welcome to Ceaser's Rehab Center, how may I help you?" her voice sounded monotonistic and robotic, like it had been rehearsed hundreds of times.

"I'm looking for a Rob Walker," I replied, giving a innocent smile. (Yes, my mother had kept her maiden name "Rose," and passed it on to me. Wouldn't Rob Rose sound just a tad bit queer?)

"I'll search him, please wait a moment."

As she was typing on her ancient looking computer, she seemed to come upon a realization. "Shouldn't you be at school?" she asked me, suddenly suspicious.

I was getting impatient. "Shouldn't you be telling me the room number of my father?" I snapped back.

Looking embarassed, the woman hastily returned to her typing. 

"Please fill out the visitor sheet," she replied a few minutes later, tapping to the sheet attached to a dull wooden clipboard.

Once I finished, she printed out a vistor pass with the words,'UNDERAGE ADULT, VISITING #436'

I quickly put it on, and a security guard walked out and escorting me to my father, supposedly for "safety purposes."

As soon as we had reached a wooden door marked,"R.W, #436," I kicked it open and strode in, mentally preparing myself for the future angry lecture to come.

*~*~*~*

My father sat in a small, uncomfortable looking metal chair, which was chained to the ground.

"Father," I said coldly.

"My little princess," he replied, arms out, gesturing for a hug.

I almost laughed in hysterica. This man stole my college fund, my future knowledge, and he still expects me to treat him the same?

I simply ignored the gesture and sat down in the other chair opposite from him.

My father simply dropped his hands back down and then said sympathetically,'T, I know you're upset with me, maybe even furious, and you probably want to punch me up and tear me up into little shreds, but let me explain."

Wow. He got every detail precisely. 

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot..

"Well? I'm waiting."

He sighed. "T, the day I got fired was because I was late. I couldn't stand to face you and your mother, so I tried to find another job. I searched for hours, until I gave up and headed to a bar for a drink. That's when I got the idea to gamble and play poker. I figured since I was a fairly decent player, I could probably earn my usual wage and you guys wouldn't suspect a thing. But the night I took your college funds was the worst mistake of my life. I was playing my last game of poker when I got a little drunk a betted all my money. When I lost, I was so furious. I started kicking things around, and punching men." 

He looked away, and winced, as if he was still there.

"In the end, some bouncers pulled me out. I kept coming back in, so they called the police. Later, they realized I was an alcoholic and could hurt a lot more people that I had that night. So they called this rehab place and..." he trailed off, seeming to not want to say anymore.

I didn't make him.

Instead, I got up, exited the doorway, and headed back for my bike.

I didn't know what to think.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, I awoke with every muscle in my body aching from the long, tiring bike ride.

I reluctantly clambered out of bed and followed the delicious aroma of french toast wafting from the kitchen.

As I sat down, my mother commented,"Serenity, you look like crap."

Leave it up to my mom to make me feel better. Plus, I thought mothers were supposed to be positive and never cuss?

"Thanks. I kinda noticed." I responded, piling my plate up with french toast and sugar powder.

"Did you go to a party or something?" she asked jokingly.

"Ha-ha. Very funny, mom. It was just some restless sleep," I said, not really wanting to talk anymore. 

My mother seemed to be getting the message, because after that, she shut up.

After breakfast, I trudged back upstairs and pulled on a pair of (surprise!) gray sweatpants and sweatshirts. 

Maybe Alyssa was right. Maybe I need to try and change...but not now. I need to recover and think about what to do with my father.

Mind jumbled, I waited outside grumpilly for Noah's pickup truck to come rumbling down the street, with Alyssa waving from the side.

But she didn't come.

~*~*~*~*~*

Yes, this is another author's note....

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