Chapter Nine

79 4 0
                                    

          The next morning, I woke up to my cell phone. I groggily reached over and took the phone off my nightstand and laid it against my ear.

          "Hello." I answered with a yawn.

          "Wake up call." A man said. My father.

          "What?" I looked over at my clock. 6:06am. "Oh, thanks."

          "I got back from Tulsa and saw you passed out in front of the TV with some other kids." He said.

          "Oh, yeah," I pushed myself to a sitting position, "Did they leave?"

          "Yes." He told me. "I'm surprised the phone woke you up. Your friend Jake made a big scene when I told them to go home."

          My stomach became queasy at his name.

          "I was sleepy."

          I heard him chuckle. "I could tell."

          "Where are you?"

          "I'm on my way to the airport." He said.

          I frowned at the wall. "You left already?" I asked.

          "I'm sorry, Ari." He said. "I got someone to check in on you at least once a week."

          "Da-a-a-ad." I whined. "I don't need a baby-sitter." Lie.

          "Too bad, you have one."

          I sighed and asked, "Who?"

          "Virus."

          "Virus?" What?

           "I don't know," my father said. "He got the nickname from his ex-wife."

          We said our good-byes, and I got up and took a shower. I shrugged into my neon pink skinny jeans, and threw on a black hooded sweater. I slipped into my white high tops with coral lacing. After applying a bit of make-up, I was ready to go. I snatched my bag, slipped my phone into my jeans pocket, and made my way downstairs. I decided on a small bag of chips for breakfast. When I was done, I tossed the bag into the trash and pranced outside. I realized I didn't have a car. The garage door was closed, but I could see a mechanical lock. Wouldn't hurt to look, I thought to myself. I went over to take a look. A whole bunch of numbers, and no clue as to what the code was.

          "Hey," I said to my father once he answered the phone. "What's the code for the garage?"

          "0-3-6-9-1."

          I disconnected and punched in the numbers. The garage door lifted up, and I walked in. Dads Camero ZL1 was there. I walked over to the car, and noticed there was a note on the hood along with the keys.

          The car is yours. Take care of it. Try not to drive it off the road

               -Dad

          I tried not to grimace at the last part of the note. Oh, haha, my dad actually has a sense of humor. I gave the car a bright smile. I have a Camaro. A new Camaro is my car. I happily shrieked, mentally thanked my dad, and hopped into the car.

          "O-M-G!" Cassy shrieked when I got out of the car.

          I smiled. "I know, right?"

Hollow HatredWhere stories live. Discover now