Mess

Chapter Four Part 1/2

The following morning I proceed with my daily routine of getting ready for Hell before going downstairs and into the kitchen. Sean is sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper, two coffees beside him. He looks almost sophisticated in his reading glasses and blue-button down accompanied by a tie on. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he glances down at his black leather wristwatch before glancing up at me and smiling. He nods over to the mug that doesn’t have ‘WORLD’S BEST DAD’ written on it. He looks back at his newspaper.

“Thanks,” I mutter and sit down opposite him.

“No prob. My co-worker I was telling you about is coming over for dinner tonight, so be home by five thirty to help me tackle that steak in the refrigerator.” He laughs, but doesn’t look up from his newspaper.

“Sure.” I say. Dinner. That’s odd, he never usually invites his co-workers around for dinner, it’s more like a beer or something.

We both finish our coffees in silence, him reading through Pasadena Weekly and me flicking through my phone.

“I’m going to leave for school now, see you later.” I smile at him. God, I feel awkward around my father sometimes. It’s just—I never really know what to say to him. I was horrible to him when I went through a…rebel phase. Yeah, we could call it that. Now our silences are filled with my internal guilt and it’s pretty hard to handle.

*****

School is a drag. My first two classes consisted of nothing but an intricate detailed analysis of the French Revolution. I swear, all I could think about was sweet little Cosette in Les Misérables and how much of a father-figure Jean Valjean was to her. In fact, when I was writing the first part of my essay I wrote ‘Valjean’ instead of ‘Burke’. It’s funny how your subconscious can deceive you, play tricks on your physical being like that. Like, I wouldn’t have even noticed if I didn’t check back through my work. Christ, I should should stop reading so many novels.

I make my way to Chemistry thinking vaguely of Les Mis because there is a nagging in the back of my mind, as if I’m forgetting something. What is it?

And then it hits me.

Dylan is my lab partner.

Fuck.

I stalk hesitantly into the classroom to find that Serena, a preppy girl with big boobs and the most vile bleached blonde extensions, is touching Dylan. Everywhere. His chest, his arms, his face—can she not stop that? I feel my cheeks redden and I sit at my station alone. How can he just go and pair up with her? I understand it would’ve been awkward for us to be partners but at least I wouldn’t have looked like such a damn fool. What’s even worse, is the fact that he’s flirting back.

Oh, Dylan Swade. Why do this to me?

I desperately fumble around for my reading book in an attempt to seek refuge from this abhorrent mess. My stomach hurts so much that I struggle to focus on the text. They’re just words and broken sentences floating around in the back of my mind while I panic and question everything happening in this present moment.

Serena halts her obnoxious laughing and Dylan starts speaking quietly. I guess they’ve spotted me—unattended, a book as my only companion.

I swear. I can feel Dylan staring at me. I feel uneasy.

I continue to fix my eyes intently on the pages. Below, I see a pair of boots stop before me. I glance up and my eyes relax at the sight of Scott. Oh, thank the almighty heavens.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He asks and he gazes at me with big blue earnest eyes and I hug him like I’ve never hugged before. His body stills at first, but then relaxes. Then he holds me even tighter.