I’m sure my ability to create videos and content is also factored in somehow, but I’m not going to look too closely at it. I have a job that I’m excited about, and that’s what matters.
“I’ll see you later?” I ask, my foot taking a step back to escape.
Dad’s eyes glance down at my feet before he glances back up.
“I have practice tonight. Do you want to go to dinner after? I can meet you somewhere if you don’t want to go to the rink,” he says.
“I’m not afraid of a hockey rink,” I say, trying to sound sincere. My hands shake whenever I go near one. Addie went skating with some friends and asked if I wanted to go. I lasted five minutes on the ice before I had to leave.
I hate that my love of skating has been tainted. It used to be my happy place, where I’d throw on some ear buds and just be when there was no one on the ice and my dad was working in his office.
All that may be gone forever now.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone near you again, no matter how high I hold them in esteem. I can, however, get you time on the ice with no one around if that’s ever something you want. It’ll just be me running plays from the bench. You know, in case you miss skating.”
“You’re a mind reader, aren’t you?” I ask. “Is that something new that you also picked up in New Orleans?”
Dad barks out a laugh, standing to come hug me.
“Mind reader? No. I’m your father, and even though we’ve been apart, I still know you,” he says. “What is this new perfume you’re wearing though?”
Breathing in his usual woodsy scent, I shake my head.
“Would you believe me if I told you that it’s how I keep people from getting too close? It’s patchouli oil.”
“It’s different,” he grumbles. “I have to say it’s working.”
I didn’t bother with any of this while I’ve been puttering around the house, not until today. My dad is getting a front row seat to who I am when I have to leave the house.
“Do you want me to let you know when I get to work?” I ask, leaning into his protective instincts.
“Please,” Dad says. “You’ll let me know about dinner?”
“I will,” I promise, fixing the strap of my shoulder bag as I begin walking toward the front door. “Have a good day!”
Slipping outside, I smile as he locks up behind me. It’s nice to know that there’s someone who expects me home, and cares if I get somewhere safely. Walking down the stairs of the porch, I breathe in the humid air. Everything is green here, and it’s a gorgeous day.
My fishnet tights are covered in ghoulish skulls, and I’m wearing one of my favorite oversized t-shirts over a black skirt with a pair of combat boots. My knife is hidden underneath my skirt, and it’s a comfortable outfit to begin filming content. My bag is filled with things that I’ll need and a microphone, but I need to walk around the store’s neighborhood so I can entice people to come check it out.
Getting into my car, I drive to work, biting my lip at the traffic.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, happy to find a parking spot near the store. “Okay, now that I’m here…am I allowed to park in this spot, is the question.”
I look around for any hints that this is a two hour parking spot, and finding none, take my first breath since I left the house. Sighing, I get out of the car and lock it, my thumb quickly typing out a message to my dad to let him know I’ve arrived. I still have a few minutes before I have to be at the shop, so I look around as I walk there.
There aren’t many other shops here, but there are a few cute restaurants. I can recommend that people stop by here asthey walk around before or after eating. My mind races with possibilities as I bypass the cute sign on the sidewalk to open the door to the shop as I search for Jonna, the owner.
Not seeing her, I push my hair behind my shoulders as I approach the person behind a counter.
“Hi,” I say with a small smile. “I’m Caelia. It’s my first day working here.”
The girl’s wide blue eyes flick up at me, her head canting to the side as she gazes at me.
“Don’t you think you’re trying too hard?” she asks.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my boots scuffing against the wood floor as I stare back. Is she talking about my clothing?
“Nothing,” she mutters. “I’m Taylor. I’ll go get Jonna from you. She’s in the back.”
