Chapter Twenty Nine
"Wake up," I feel my body shaking and I open my eyes to see Trace standing over me, "you know, you talk in your sleep." He says simply and I sit up.
The morning light is illuminating the room and I groan, knowing it's time to wake up. We probably should've gone to bed before two a.m. but it's too late to turn back time now.
"No I don't," I say obviously and throw my head back on the pillow.
He laughs and jumps into the air, landing beside me on the big bed. The bed shakes as he lands, waking me up even more.
"Yea, you do." he says and props his head up on his hand. His body is turned towards me and I glare at him for being so happy in the morning. He brushes my hair out of my face.
"So I was thinking," he says and I turn my body to face him, tucking a hand underneath my pillow, "the mechanic opens at nine thirty so we should leave here around nine considering we're relying on an uber to get us there."
Sounds like a good plan I guess.
"What time is it now?" I ask him and he looks at the clock on my nightstand, reminding me that it's there.
"Eight o' clock." I groan even louder this time.
He woke me up an hour before it's time for us to leave? I don't even wake up that early to get ready for school! I always give myself fifteen minutes in the morning and sometimes I'll sleep in and get about five but it always works out in the end, well, most of the time.
He rolls his eyes at my level of difficulty and stands up, "I'm going to eat breakfast."
Although I don't want to get up, I'm already awake. I may as well take a shower and eat breakfast as well.
I roll out of bed and pull my hair out of my face as I yawn.
He grabs the bread and nutella, smiling at my tiredness but not saying anything as he prepares his toast.
I grab my unopened bag of peanut butter M&Ms and go to sit at the small table in front of the window. I pull my knees up to my chest and open the bag, grabbing a handful out and eating them one at a time out of my palm.
He comes over and sits down in front of me with two pieces of toast on his foam plate, "How are you eating those?" he asks and takes a bite of his toast.
Oh no.
Did I ever tell him about my 'allergy' to peanut butter? I don't remember ever mentioning it to him but I also try to get out of the car with my seat belt still on so I'm not entirely sure everything is going good in my head.
"What do you mean?" I ask dumbly and shift in my seat.
He shrugs, "You told Mason you were allergic to peanut butter and those," he points to my M&M bag with his toast, "have peanut butter."
I'm surprised he remembers that small conversation. He pays more attention than I thought he did.
I laugh awkwardly, "Yea, I'm not really allergic."
He frowns, "Why would you say you are?"
I know it seems dumb to lie about such a simple thing but in my defense I had a perfectly logical explanation.
"To avoid judgmental comments," I say with an odd smile and he raises his eyebrows, telling me to continue.
"I don't like peanut butter." I say and decide to go into detail with it, "I actually hate it but every time I tell someone this they always hit me with 'how could you not like peanut butter?' 'Are you even human?'," I mock the voices of people and continue, "and after a while I just got tired of it."
I sit up in my seat, placing my feet on the floor and lean over the table, "I hate peanut butter but I love peanut butter M&Ms." I say with so much emotion in my voice that he smiles a little, "But in order to avoid all the wacky, annoying comments about my preferences I just tell people I'm allergic. The only thing about this that sucks is that my favorite candy has peanut butter so I can never eat my favorite candy in front of people or they'll know my little secret."
He gives me an amused grin, "Sorry for calling you out on your prison worthy crime."
I nod and sit back in my chair, eating my M&Ms again.
The only people who know I'm not really allergic to peanut butter is my family, now Trace is added to the list.
He puts the last bite into his mouth and stands up, rubbing his hands together, "I'm going to pack our stuff up.
I put another handful into my mouth before getting up to shower.
I make my way to the bathroom and close the door before remembering an important detail. My clothes.
My brain mentally applauds itself for remembering this time and I walk out of the bathroom and grab an outfit, ignoring the amused look from Trace.
After my shower I throw on the pair of black shorts and my light pink shirt before putting my hair into a loose ponytail.
When I open the door Trace is standing at the window talking on the phone so I just walk over to my bag and drop Traces clothes that I wore into it, deciding I should wash them before giving them back.
"That's great, thanks." he pauses, "Bye,"
He ends the call and turns around to see me, "Ready?"
I nod and grab my bag before we make our way out the door.
"Who was that?" I ask referring to the phone call.
"I called the uber to make sure they remembered to pick us up and he said he's pulling into the parking lot." Trace says.
We get in the elevator and Trace stiffens and shuts his eyes as we go down. I decide not to say anything and just let him be afraid 'secretly'. I guess my pointing it out messes with his man power or whatever.
We get in the uber and I call my mom, letting her know that we won't be there until this evening. I was going to do it last night but I knew she'd be sleeping at midnight so I made a mental note to do it this morning.
Mom sounds disappointed but she understands. She says dad is watching TV in the hospital room right now and her and Laila are out getting him breakfast.
We exchange I love you's and end the call. A few moments later we pull up at the garage and I pay the uber driver before making our way to find Traces truck.
The two of us walk inside and Trace tells the man about his truck and shows his ID and a few papers he grabbed from the console before we went to the gas station last night.
The man has a guy drive the truck around to the front and we walk outside to meet him. When Trace see's his truck his eyes light up, "Missy is a beauty isn't she?" he asks me but runs up to the man, taking the keys from his hand, before I can answer.
I laugh and follow him. We get in and toss our bags in the backseat and he goggles over his precious truck from the dinosaur ages.
He rubs the steering wheel a few times with a longing look on his face before giving it a kiss. He literally bends down and kisses the steering wheel right on the horn causing me to stifle a laugh.
He hears this and rolls his eyes teasingly as he adjusts his mirrors before pulling out of the parking lot.
We drive through the crowded highway and I find it funny how packed the streets are when it isn't midnight.
"Punch buggy!" I shout and punch his arm. He looks up at me with disbelief and raises his eyebrows as if to ask me why I just punched him.
Has he never played punch buggy?
It's a game my family and I have always played on road trips where every time you see a Volkswagen Beetle you punch someone and yell, 'punch buggy'.
I completely forgot about the game until I saw a yellow bug car drive past and I just punched out of instinct.
"You're supposed to tell me we're playing before you start punching." He whines and I chuckle, muttering a 'sorry'.
"I don't want to play a game where I punch you so how about we listen to the radio?" He says with a simple smile and turns the radio up.
"Fine," I sigh, "be boring then."
He chuckles and we begin singing to the radio which leads to a conversation which leads to laughing which leads to loss of time and before I know it we're pulling up at the hospital.
A million things run through my mind as I stare at the big building in front of me, the building that holds the man I've loved for forever. Inside this big building is my father. The man who's always been there and taught me so many things is sitting behind this wall of brick and I can't wait to see him.
I can't wait to walk into the room and see the smile instantly appear on his handsome face. I'll run to his bed hug, his sore body, and then apologize for squeezing too tight.
Trace kills the engine and turns to me, "Are you ready?"
Three words that I've never been so scared to answer.
The answer is yes. Even though seeing my father hurt will kill a part of me, I couldn't be more excited to see him.
I nod quickly and a smile forms on his face. We get out of the truck and walk through the automatic doors before getting in the elevator and making our way to the room number mom texted me.
We roam the hallways for a short minute, searching frantically for the right room before finally finding it. I grab the doorknob and stop, my smile fades as I realize what I'm about to see.
When I open this door I'm going to see my daddy laying in a hospital bed.
"Do you want to wait a minute?" A soft, deep voice asks and I look to Traces face for comfort.
I'm about to let go of the doorknob and take him up on that offer of waiting but I've been waiting days to see my dad, I'm not waiting any longer.
I shake my head and turn the doorknob. Trace gives me a small smile and a nod telling me he'll wait in the hallway and give us a moment.
My smile comes back as I push the door open and see my father laying in bed. He turns to my direction and his face breaks out into a huge grin, "Emma!"
All my doubts and fears of seeing him broken fade away as I focus on the deep smile he's holding right now.
I run to his bed and hug him. He squeezes me tight, telling me how much he's missed me.
"I'm so glad you're okay, daddy." I say with the biggest smile possible as I pull back from our hug.
"Hey, Emma," I turn to look at the owner of the scratchy voice and see Laila standing there with a smirk on her face, arms crossed, "glad you finally came to see dad."
Authors Note:
Hey guys! Thanks for reading and if you enjoyed don't forget to vote! And huge thanks to all the people who leaves wonderful comments every chapter and always remember to click that little star! Thank you all so much for the support you've given me, you have no idea how much it means! :))
So you got your first glimpse of Laila. What do you think she'll be like?