Page 48 of Not Mine To Love

I woke up from a much-needed nap. I got out of bed feeling like a lazy person for sleeping in the middle of the day. I felt groggy, and my heart hurt. I thought it was because of guilt. I spent the past weekend taking pictures and trying my best to not be alone with Julius. I exhausted me. If it weren’t for the fact that I needed the money, I would have quit a long time ago.

I made my way to the kitchen, wondering where my dad was. I didn’t see him inside and just shrugged it off and sat in front of the TV. I couldn’t believe it. I had the TV to myself. I reached for the remote, hoping to binge watch a superhero drama on Netflix when I heard my dad talking to someone.

Being nosy, I got up and looked out the window. I'd bet it was his lady love. Apparently, he hit it off with the school librarian, a woman named Lori. They were suddenly an item. I met her and liked her. She had a ton of energy and made my dad seem more alive.

Dad was old and had found love again. I was young and still crap at it. I peered through the window then screamed and jumped out of sight. My dad was talking to Julius. One, how did Julius know where I lived and two, why was he here? And most importantly, number three, did he hear me scream and jump from in front of the window like a crazy person?

I rushed to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Added a little extra deodorant and tried to do something with my hair. It was at an awkward length, so there wasn’t much I could do. I briefly thought about putting on a hairband, but I was told that I resembled a Disney princess so I didn’t want the headband to make me look even more cartoonish.

I looked down and tried to rub the stain off my shirt. It was orange as if I had been eating chips. I groaned to myself. I had been eating chips. I went to pull it off when I remembered it was the only clean shirt I had since I hated doing laundry. I scrubbed at it with a piece of tissue and only made it worse. Now I had a huge orange stain and little pieces of tissue stuck to it. It was yucky, but there was nothing I could do.

Thinking quickly, I went back to my room, grabbed a jacket and tied it around my waist.

I inspected myself in the mirror and tried not to groan. I looked like a 1990s boyband member that my mother was so fond of. But hey, it would hide the huge stain. Sighing, I realized that I really didn’t know when to quit. My life was like the huge stain on my shirt. If I had just left well enough alone I wouldn’t be such a mess.

My father and Julius were in the kitchen when I came out. They looked up at me at the same time.

“New look?” my dad asked with a smirk as he checked out my jacket. I rolled my eyes just like a teenager and sort of felt like one again. I didn’t want my dad talking to Julius. That sounded embarrassing. Who knew what he’d probably already told him…

And then I saw it, a photo album. He was showing Julius my baby pictures.

I walked over and snatched the book up. “Seriously, Dad?!”

“What?” he said with a light shrug. “You were a cute baby, and you never invite anyone over so I never have anyone to share them with.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“You’re the first friend she’s brought over in a while. I was beginning to think she didn’t have any,” my dad said with a grin.

“Dad, seriously, come on.”

“What?”

“You’re embarrassing me and making me look like a lonely, friendless old lady.”

“If the shoe fits…” Julius added to the conversation, letting his voice trail off. Now I wanted to hit him. I was being double team, and I didn’t like it.

I put my hands on my hips and turned my ire in Julius’ direction first.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Uh oh… someone’s cranky,” Dad laughed.

“And when did you become such a comedian?” I folded my arms over my chest, trying to look mean.

I failed apparently because my dad said, “She used to pout just like that when she was a little girl. In fact, I think I might have a picture…”

Dad got up and started wandering through the house in search of a picture of me. I rolled my eyes and turned in Julius’ direction.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What?”

“You’re practically stalking me. I told you that I didn’t want to be alone with you.”

“We’re not alone… your dad is right here.”

“You know what I meant.”