Summertime Douchebag (COMPLETE/WILL EDIT)

Chapter 1

"I don't want to go to Chesire for the summer, no. I refuse to go." I pout, crossing my arms.

"You are going, and that's final." My mom challenges.

"Why?" I throw my hands in the air in irritation.

"Have you seen your grades Emilia?! Do you not know that your principle constantly calls the house to let me know that you have not been coming to class?!" She raises her voice. "You think I'm just gonna let you act like that with no punishment?"

I stay silent.

"So now that I've gotten my point across." She pauses. "Let me help you pack up. You're flight leaves on Saturday morning at 8."

Oh

I groan.

After a hour 2 hours of complaining about my fashion sense and how I can fit in my clothes, we finally finished.

~.~.~.~.~.~

Sunday 7/19/2009

"Welcome Home!" My dad smiles.

for now

I smile

"You're room is upstairs, and..." He struggles to carry my bags up the stairs and I try to hide a laugh. "What do you have in here, rocks?"

"Only in one of the bags, the other bags have pointless stuff like metal bars, body parts, ya know? Room decor and such." He stares at me for a while then laughs and I join him.

Ouch

He notices my pained reaction and I try to cough it away.

"Do you still-"

"No. I stopped a long time ago. Don't worry." I lied, with a weak smile.

"Okay." He smiles back. He makes his way back up the stairs and I follow.

"This is your room, I know it's small. Sorry, but lo-"

"It's fine, dad. I love it." I smile.

"I'm glad you do sweetheart. I miss you, you know that kid?" He pats my head.

I missed you too dad.

I nodded.

"Okay, if you need anything. I'll be downstairs, do you want takeout, homemade food?" He asks.

"I'm not hungry. I'm fine."

Yes, you are. No you're not

"I'll have food for you anyways." He left the room and closed the door.

It hit noon and I felt like exploring where I'll be living for 3 months.

I grab my penny board and exited my room.

"Dad?" I called out.

"Kitchen!" He called back. I walked into the kitchen to see him making pasta. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna head out." I said, pointing to the door.

"Where to?"

"Anywhere, really. I want to get to know this place."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Of course. Just stay safe." He says wiping his hands on his apron and digs in his pockets.

"Here." He hands 20 pounds.

I smile.

I head out and my plop my penny on the floor.

Where do I go?