Emily's POV_
Yesterday's event flooded my mind as I tossed and turned in bed.
"Did I do that?"
"Sneaking out to my best friend's party was a terrible idea'', I thought to myself before stealing a glance at my alarm clock. It was six-thirty am.
"Time for school", I mentally groaned.
My best friend's parents were cool and they allowed her to throw a party while they went to a hotel for some alone time. I envied how her parents still acted like high school sweethearts and their love seemed like it bloomed with each passing spring. Lucy was lucky to be an only child of this fun pair.
They gave my best friend just three ground rules for the party. She had sent them to me but trust me she broke them all.
°Rules°
Only guys in grade eleven are allowed.
Both grade ten, eleven and twelve guys came to the party. Not more than twenty teenagers with a maximum of eight boys, but they were over forty teenagers in her house or at least they looked like teenagers. No alcohol allowed. She didn't break this rule, well technically the older boys came with it.
I didn't understand why we were having a party on Sunday. It felt so wrong.
The party commenced by seven pm. My dad usually came home by four on Sundays. He was so committed to his job that he went even on Sundays but, for lesser hours. Sometimes, with the amount of time he spent at work; it wouldn't pass as an exaggeration if I concluded his work was his first child.
Dad has this routine of ordering food whenever he was too tired to cook.
Luckily for me, this was one of those days. I feigned loss of appetite and retired to my room first.
I waited until he and my younger brother were asleep or it seemed so as the house became quiet. The dishes must have been done quickly. My dad was probably really tired. Once he slept he wouldn't get up until four a.m, that was his sleep pattern.
I quickly wore my short floral gown. It was free and comfortable with my black boots. I took my spare key with me.
Her house was close to mine. It was a ten minutes drive from my house. I drove there on Kacy, my bike. I named it and we have been together for a year now.
Lucy hugged me tightly as soon as I arrived. Being me, I made sure not to take any drinks. I didn't want to take any chances or fall victim to anything.
The party was quite boring to me. Loud pop music was blaring from the speakers and a part of me felt guilty for having snuck out of the house. I knew my dad wouldn't let me go to the party but Lucy was my best friend. Dad would never understand that. He was always wary of her.
Guys were dancing with girls while some were taking it further to second base. My conscience finally won eventually. I left the party without telling Lucy and returned home. I knew she would have convinced me to stay and loosen up.
By approximately 8:45 pm, I was back home. My plan would have been successful but James switched on the lights.
"Busted"
"James please don't say anything to dad promise me"
He smiled then nodded. I was relieved.
***presently
Dad was scolding James. He had just caught James playing video games as usual rather than getting dressed for school. This activity of theirs woke me up some mornings.
James was something. Dad always warned him not to play video games on a school morning but he never listens.
If dad's scolding didn't wake me up, Lucy's constant calls and messages would. What kind of a person calls someone by 6 am? Lucy Walker, the phenomenal buzz. Some moments when it gets so overwhelming, I switch my phone off but she's amazing.
I got out of my rose-patterned quilt and wobbled to the shower. I began to think about my family. It was nothing so special, just my dad, James and I. You might be wondering about my mom but there's nothing much to say. She disappeared when I was ten.
Some of my neighbours say she cheated on my dad with a white man, others say she was assassinated but my dad says nothing. A part of me hopes that she is alive so I can ask her what exactly happened.
My mom was really sweet to me. She was my friend, not a bossy mom. Well, now I was stuck with my authoritarian dad and popular younger brother. He was 14 yet all the girls in 8th grade liked him but he wasn't that handsome to me. Well, no one admits their annoying brother is good-looking.
I came back to reality and I turned the shower on. The water was warm, it gave me a good feeling. I felt on top of the world like a princess. Anytime I showered, I felt more confident about my skin; light and smooth- everyone says that. I loved the strawberry scent of my soap- so soothing.
I threw on my black hoodie alongside ripped blue jeans and my signature Nike canvas just in time before my dad hollered his usual phrase "Be down in 5 guys." I was overjoyed my full short kinky black hair rocked the crotchet braiding style.
I recall my dad was quite furious, I spent $100 by getting my hair done in an exquisite salon against the $40 he told me to use and he slashed my allowance, but trust me I didn't regret it because this look was worth it and... Maybe my crush would finally notice me. I looked dashing.
My dad was well off but he didn't show it. He spent moderately except for our cute house which had five rooms. It was a beautiful warm beige duplex. The master bedroom was for my dad alone now, a moderate-sized room for me and one for my brother while the other rooms were unoccupied, more like guestrooms.
A housekeeping lady, Miss Betty came every week and she would do the laundry, cook and so on. She had been working for my family for some years now but we can't start a conversation.
I went down for breakfast by 6:50 am. My dad didn't make anything basically, he just kept milk, frosties and set our plates. My dad loved cooking which accounts for our large kitchen. We had two microwaves, three ovens, a huge cold room and a huge collection of different glass wares, cutlery and so on.
Dad had a taste for quality cutlery. If he wasn't a system engineer, I'm certain he'd have been a chef. He had all the qualifications.
He hated us taking cereals; he called it "breakfast for the lazy." His opinion though I love my cereals; but anytime he set this for us, it meant he was worried. He doesn't cook when he is disturbed.
James came down soon after and he wore black pants and a black leather jacket with black boots. I wonder what was going on in his mind pertaining to the all-black outfit. There was a huge smile on his face and he quickly yelled,
"Dad, Emily sneaked out to a party yesterday." That little monster.
Surprisingly there was no reaction from dad. Then he looked up.
"James, did you say something?"
I quickly texted James,
Me
What do you want?
He texted back
Annoying butterfly🙄
Your cookie jar.
That little blackmailer and I mouthed to him, "fine ."
"It was nothing dad, are you alright?"
"I'm fine" he quickly muttered.
I knew something was up. Mr Hugh, my dad didn't cook so he was troubled but I knew better than to not press further. He wouldn't tell me. He would just shrug, adjust his glasses, push his round lips forward, stroke his goaty and tell you everything was fine.
He always felt we were too young to discuss serious matters and only told us if it was VERY important.
James munched his cereals quickly. He oddly ate them. He would pour some cereal on a plate and eat them without adding milk and once he was done, he would take a glass of milk after. Dad always complained about his odd habit but he was too engulfed in his thoughts to say anything today.
I yelled loudly to bring him back.
"Dad we are ready."
"Oh okay let's go then," he said while he was heading to the door.
My brother wore his bag pack and I took my bag which my mom gifted me before she disappeared and we all got into dad's blue SUV. I quickly went online to the site of a Nigerian blog I bookmarked, Sullen dancing pen.
I stumbled upon the blog while I was browsing about Nigeria, my homeland. I got curious about their culture and land during a historical debate about King Jaja of Opobo, proceeded to research further on the topic and I found the blogger Sullen writes. Since then, I became an avid reader of that blog.
The best part is that the blogger is unknown but recently he revealed that he is a male. He has a novel "Tangled" and it is very popular in Africa but it is only online on his blog and other sites. He also has an anthology of reality stories called "Speak up" and he addresses problems young people face.
His works are so inspiring and he has lots of subscribers. He leaves hints in each chapter of "Tangled" about who he is and I'm so eager to see the brains behind these masterpieces.
A chapter is updated every Monday but by 6 am in America, it was always out.
Excitement filled my face as I saw there was a new update. I was about to read it when it occurred to me, that I had to present my history project on my ancestral home and I...FORGOT
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This is the end of chapter one.
It is my first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it.
One's family determines a lot in a person's life but it doesn't fully limit you from being better or restrain you from being worse.
What's your opinion on the story so far? Care to share one unique detail about your ancestral home with me?
Do click the like❤ button
So Emily is going to be in a lot of trouble in the next chapter😁😁😁