“She was in the car right behind me.”
This is Dad’s way of trying to prod Cassie away but she still clings to him like a baby monkey to its mother. Neither of us knows how to deal with Cassie’s traumatized mental state but my father looks uncomfortable with her holding on so tight. Anyone who didn’t know him might think he was actually Cassie’s father, not mine. Cassie grew up without a father of her own. Cassie’s mother was a strong presence in her life but I can’t imagine what it would be like without a father. I guess my dad has done what he can to be there for Cassie when needed, though she’s clearly not into the same things that we are.
Dad’s a few inches shorter than me and is fair-skinned and light-eyed, not dark and tall like me. His bushy handlebar mustache not only takes up half of his face but also gives him a comical appearance. But don’t let him fool you—you could plop him in the middle of the woods with no supplies and he would have no trouble surviving. It’s a skill he’s instilled in me over the years though he always claimed I was a natural.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dad asks me.
“I… I think I will be one day,” Cassie answers.
“And Zannia? ” he asks, suppressing a smile. He suddenly turns serious, which I’m not used to from him. You could definitely classify me as a tomboy and he’s always treated me like one. His sincere concern makes me feel uncomfortable. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
I nod, knowing that if I speak at this moment my voice may crack worse than Cassie’s. I quickly get my emotions under control and change the subject.
“How did you get here so soon? I thought you and Celeste had a huge tour this weekend,” I say.
Dad frowns. I know business has been rough recently and this job was supposed to help with that. I didn’t get too upset when I found out he’d have to miss the game because of the tour. If he cancelled the trip because of the stupid attack, I might just have to join the police in searching for the soldiers.
“It’s the strangest thing,” my father explains. “We had the tour ready to go—the old man even paid in advance—but he never showed up.”
“The old man?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“Yeah, Celeste and I had everything ready for someone his age—he was too old to participate in normal activities. We waited for him and his party for hours but nothing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
I can’t help but think of the old man from earlier. I glance around the crowd for any sight of him. I try to convince myself I’m just being paranoid—that my father’s client wasn’t the same old man watching me—but I can’t shake the feeling. I say nothing about it, though. Dad has enough to worry about without dealing with my crazy theories.
“Celeste suddenly got very quiet—got a far off look in her eye—and could sense there was something wrong with you girls,” Dad continues. “We got into the car as reports already started coming in about the strange attack here. She rushed to pick up Mom while I came staight here.”
Cassie suddenly detaches from my dad. The tears and look of terror have disappeared, replaced with her usual scowl of annoyance.
“Wait, so you and my mom won’t be away for the next few nights?” My dad shakes his head and she grunts angrily. Suddenly her ‘near-death experience’ doesn’t seem so important now that she has to cancel her big party.
“I’ll be right back,” I say when I spot another familiar car across the parking lot.
Dad’s eyes go wide at the thought of me leaving him alone with Cassie—she’s much worse to deal with when pouting than when she’s upset. When she’s not looking, I throw a smile and wink at my father, knowing full well that he’ll bust my chops about this later. But he still looks concerned as I jog away and I’m left feeling as annoyed as Cassie. Is it because of my father’s continued concern? Cassie’s dramatics? I can’t
This is Dad’s way of trying to prod Cassie away but she still clings to him like a baby monkey to its mother. Neither of us knows how to deal with Cassie’s traumatized mental state but my father looks uncomfortable with her holding on so tight. Anyone who didn’t know him might think he was actually Cassie’s father, not mine. Cassie grew up without a father of her own. Cassie’s mother was a strong presence in her life but I can’t imagine what it would be like without a father. I guess my dad has done what he can to be there for Cassie when needed, though she’s clearly not into the same things that we are.
Dad’s a few inches shorter than me and is fair-skinned and light-eyed, not dark and tall like me. His bushy handlebar mustache not only takes up half of his face but also gives him a comical appearance. But don’t let him fool you—you could plop him in the middle of the woods with no supplies and he would have no trouble surviving. It’s a skill he’s instilled in me over the years though he always claimed I was a natural.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dad asks me.
“I… I think I will be one day,” Cassie answers.
“And Zannia? ” he asks, suppressing a smile. He suddenly turns serious, which I’m not used to from him. You could definitely classify me as a tomboy and he’s always treated me like one. His sincere concern makes me feel uncomfortable. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
I nod, knowing that if I speak at this moment my voice may crack worse than Cassie’s. I quickly get my emotions under control and change the subject.
“How did you get here so soon? I thought you and Celeste had a huge tour this weekend,” I say.
Dad frowns. I know business has been rough recently and this job was supposed to help with that. I didn’t get too upset when I found out he’d have to miss the game because of the tour. If he cancelled the trip because of the stupid attack, I might just have to join the police in searching for the soldiers.
“It’s the strangest thing,” my father explains. “We had the tour ready to go—the old man even paid in advance—but he never showed up.”
“The old man?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“Yeah, Celeste and I had everything ready for someone his age—he was too old to participate in normal activities. We waited for him and his party for hours but nothing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
I can’t help but think of the old man from earlier. I glance around the crowd for any sight of him. I try to convince myself I’m just being paranoid—that my father’s client wasn’t the same old man watching me—but I can’t shake the feeling. I say nothing about it, though. Dad has enough to worry about without dealing with my crazy theories.
“Celeste suddenly got very quiet—got a far off look in her eye—and could sense there was something wrong with you girls,” Dad continues. “We got into the car as reports already started coming in about the strange attack here. She rushed to pick up Mom while I came staight here.”
Cassie suddenly detaches from my dad. The tears and look of terror have disappeared, replaced with her usual scowl of annoyance.
“Wait, so you and my mom won’t be away for the next few nights?” My dad shakes his head and she grunts angrily. Suddenly her ‘near-death experience’ doesn’t seem so important now that she has to cancel her big party.
“I’ll be right back,” I say when I spot another familiar car across the parking lot.
Dad’s eyes go wide at the thought of me leaving him alone with Cassie—she’s much worse to deal with when pouting than when she’s upset. When she’s not looking, I throw a smile and wink at my father, knowing full well that he’ll bust my chops about this later. But he still looks concerned as I jog away and I’m left feeling as annoyed as Cassie. Is it because of my father’s continued concern? Cassie’s dramatics? I can’t
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