sharkbait \\ h.s

6

I wake at three in the morning to make waffles, and to my surprise, my dad is sitting in the kitchen when I stepped in. The cold handle of the fridge sends shivers through my body.

"Hey, sweetie," he says, spooning chocolate pudding into his mouth. "What are you doing up?"

I hold the box of Eggo's and shake it. "Hungry. So were you, I see. You're eating my pudding."

"Yeah..." His back straightens and he looks at me with hard eyes. "So, Cal, I was gonna wait, but since you're up, I think we should talk."

The "1" button on the microwave doesn't work, so I have to settle for fifty seconds instead, knowing full well that it wouldn't cook through. I take a seat across from my dad. "That doesn't sound good."

"I know you know that I told Harry to ask you out," he says carefully, in case I don't know. I nod. "Are you mad?"

"Not at you."

"At Harry?"

"At me." His face scrunches up, the flab of his jiggling. "I should've known, dad. It's not unlike you."

The microwave beeps. When I stand up, my dad puts a hand in the air. "I'll get it. Butter?"

"Yeah," I say, sitting back in the stool. "I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday."

"It's okay." My dad butters my waffles and places the plate in front of me. "How were the brownies last night?"

A laugh escapes my lips on accident as I remember the taste of the burnt brownies. Disgusting, horrible, terrifying. "Good." I shoved a piece if waffle into my mouth. They were still cold.

"Harry made them." He laughed lightly.

Swallowing, I say, "They ruined brownies for me for the rest of my life."

My dad laughs. "I thought you liked him?"

"Where'd you get that idea?" I take another bite.

"You're joking," my dad says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. It probably is. "You were practically drooling over him that first day in Quig's."

Ever since that day in the restaurant, where I had practically drooled over Harry, my father had brought up the subject of how much I liked him almost every time we talked. He wasn't completely wrong, I mean Harry was nice and cute, and it's not like I didn't like him, I just didn't think of him in... that way.

But I probably could if I let myself.

Which I won't.

I finish my waffles a little bit after my dad goes back to bed. When I finally tuck myself back in, I'm not able to go to sleep again, so I pull my laptop out of it's case and go to my blog.

Breaking news: hot waiter is no more. Now a dickweed.

I read it over. "Hm."

With horrible baking skills.

...

"Cal!" My dad calls from the couch.

"What?" I shout back, even though I know it irritates him when I don't come when he calls me. I hear him mumble something. "Sorry, dad. Coming."

I get to the living room and I wasn't expecting to see him how I did. With bloodshot eyes and messy hair, he turns to me. "Cal, I have to go to Folsom for a couple days. I need you to stay here."

What?

"Folsom?" I ask. "That's like three hours away, dad. Why do you need to go there?"

He looks angry. "Jesus, Cal! I said I need to go. You don't have to know everything."

"Whatever." I go back to my room, slamming the door as hard as I can, which wasn't actually very hard at all. I pull my phone of my dresser and dial my aunt's number.

"Cal!" Ash squeals when she answers. "Oh my God, I thought you died or something! I saw your blog. Dickweed. No bueno."

"Yeah, Ash, my dad's going to Folsom."

"Oh." Her voice lowers. "Okay."

"Do you know why he'd need to go there?"

"You know, actually, I can't talk right now." I hear ruffling on the other end. "You know Jeff, right? My neighbor... Yeah, we're kind of in the... uh, middle of something. Bye, hun!" The line goes dead.

What?

The front door opens. "Hey, Mick," Harry's deep voice carries through the house.

"Thanks for coming, Harry." The sound of a suitcase rolling against the floor follows my dad's words. "I have to go now. You don't have to stay all night, but I don't want California to be running out again."

Harry laughs. The door closes.

He's staying? Does my dad honestly think I need a chaperone? Jesus. I decide that I'm not going to come out of my room until he leaves.

Ten minutes later, I had to pee. Jesus.

I try to walk to the bathroom without being noticed, but when I hear Harry speak from the kitchen, I know I've failed miserably.

"Cali," he announces. He's eating my pudding.

"Why is everyone eating my fucking pudding?"

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~mel x