Preacher's Daughter: A Modern Clato Fanfic

Chapter 6

To tell her friends or not tell her friends? That was the question taking over Clove's thoughts. Should she tell them that he openly cussed in her home, and disgraced the citizens of their town? Should she tell them how the way the new boy made her feel? How under the intensity of his stare, she finally felt like she was more than just the preacher's daughter. How they only spoke a few words but the sexual tension was extremely thick. No. She wouldn't tell them everything. 

Once everyone was seated and eating their dessert, Clove took the time to observe the blonde eyed mystery closer. He looked like your average Californian boy: A light tan on his skin, golden hair, crystal eyes, strong, white teeth. Clove noticed something she hadn't before. She almost didn't see it, considering he must have tried to conceal it. 

Underneath his shirt and hanging from his neck was what appeared to be a silver chain. Clove wondered if it had a pendant or coin or something on it as well, and if it was a good luck charm or something. Which sounded stupid, because he seemed pretty full of himself already. 

Clove shrugged the thought off, trying not to let it get to her. It was none of her business nor her concern. Though it made her curious, she wouldn't initiate conversation about it, at least, not right at that moment. 

"Thank you so much for having us over," Cynthia said as she and her son made their way out of the house. "And I do apologize for earlier. Cato never likes loosing an argument. Let us know if you need anything?" 

Before Clove could utter as much as an apology for her behaviour earlier as well, the Hadleys were gone. 

***

She confused him, to be quite frank. One minute, she was this silent and timid little thing, the next she was impulsive and rude. And before anyone knew it, she was back to that obedient little girl, acting as if nothing crazy had just occurred. 

It made Cato curious, and he wanted to know more. Which was a first for him. After all, most of the time back home, he wouldn't think too much about a girl or what she did. He would just make her fall for his charms, make her feel special for a week, got what he wanted, and then dumped her sorry ass. 

"You know," Cynthia turned to her son as they made their way back home. Cato sighed as she turned down the radio, this meaning she wanted to have a serious talk with him. 

"What you did was uncalled for. It was wrong, Cato. Extremely wrong. No matter what you feel or believe, we were guests in their home. We have to respect that these people are some of the best in town. If we can't even act civil towards one another, then what are we supposed to do?" 

Cato responded with, "I don't care if they like us or not. To be honest, I don't like them. They seem too perfect. Like, they think what they believe is right and every breath they breathe must be worshipped." 

"Cato, I don't think that's what-" 

"Mom, I'm not done," Cato stated harshly. "I'm just saying that, well, take the girl for instance. Clove. Did she seem uncomfortable to you? She did to me. And that was before I called her out and started bickering with her." 

"It could be because she doesn't know us all that well," Cynthia pointed out. Cato nodded, assessing the possibility. "I don't know. Maybe. I guess it's possible. I just think that her parents seem stuck up and think everyone is lower than them, at least that's the vibe they give of. She's different, thought. Clove seems like she questions herself and the things around her."

Cynthia rose her eyebrows as she pulled up to a stoplight, turning toward her rambling son. "I didn't know you to be so observant," she admitted, "especially not to a girl you've just met." 

"Whatever," was Cato's lame excuse to end the topic. "But did you look at that table cloth? That thing was so goddamn ugly, it's not even funny." 

***

It mocked her. The stupid handbag mocked her. 

Clove sighed, taking the bag up in her hands and heading into the kitchen were her parents were in deep conversation. "Dad?" Clove called, gaining their attention. "Cynthia left her purse here." 

John gave his daughter a small smile. "Thank you for telling us," he said softly. "I'll giver her a call. Maybe one of us could drop it off tomorrow morning." 

Clove nodded and left the room, leaving the purse on the table. She groaned as she made her way up the staircase. What a long and eventful evening she had. 

And little did Clove know, with Cato in town, things were just going to get more entertaining. 

***

I had off of school today, but I had to brave the cold and the snow and the wind to go over to the library to get a stupid book for school. I was not happy. 

And I don't know whether or not I'm going tomorrow. I hope not. The anticipation is killing me, seeing as I won't know until five thirty tomorrow morning. 

On a brighter note, Elina Fuhrman favorited one of my tweets! I started crying once I got the notification.