Trust.

I glared at the house just in front of me. Mom sat in the driver’s seat, looking out the window at Frank’s house that he had just bought. It was about a forty minute drive from my house,which sucked.

“Do…I have to?” I asked, looking at her with a frown.

“Just for the weekend, Rory. If you feel you really need to come home just call ok?” She kissed me goodbye and I got out of the car. I waved good-bye only to hear Frank shouting, “Rory, you’re here!”

“Obviously,” I snarled, slowly walking up to him. When I felt his arms wrap around me I grimaced and quickly pushed him away.

Without bothering I kicked off my shoes on the porch and walked inside. It was larger than our house. It reminded me of one of those places those snobby rich people lived in so in simpler terms; I didn’t like it.

Frank gave me a tour of the place. There was a living and dining area with a kitchen and a music room. Upstairs there were three bedrooms each with their own bathroom, a small library, and an office. Out back there was a pool, patio, gazebo, and a hot tub.

Yeah, it was a place for rich people.

“So Rory, how’s school?” Frank asked. He stood in front of the oven baking me lunch. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it smelled pretty damn good.

“Fine,” I answered. “School is school.”

Talking with him felt weird. I feel like I have to watch what I say in front of him and I fucking hate it. I shouldn’t feel like this. Growling, I shake those thoughts from my head and make a mental note to say whatever the hell I want. I don’t need to please him.

“How are your grades?”

“Straight D’s.”

He stiffened and looked back at my smirking face. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. I was guessing it’s because he wants to gain me back. I’m guessing it’s because he doesn’t want me to hate him. Too bad, I’ll always hate him.Robert is a better dad.

Afterwards the atmosphere around us went still, quiet. Frank gave me my food and we ate silently before he suggested watching TV. I shrugged and we argued over what to watch. He wanted to watch something educational while I wanted to watch a horror movie.

After about ten minutes of this I growled and got up. “Whatever, watch what you want. I’m calling Allister.”

“Whose Allister?” He asked and didn’t get an answer.

I dialed Allister’s number and waited for him to answer, when he finally did I grumbled, “I hate Frank.”

“Rory…you don’t hate him,” Allister sighed.

I shook my head and rolled over on my bed. I glared at the cream ceiling above me. It made me sick. I wanted to roll back over and puke up what I just ate just to give the room some damn color. It looked so…old in here. It smelled like old people too.

“I’m starting to re-think this. I don’t know if I can spend 48 hours with this…thing.”

“You did before.”

“But that was before.”

“He hasn’t changed though.”

I whined, “Yes he has!”

From the other end I heard Allister giggle. The boy changed the subject, which got me to relax and stop thinking about the dumb ass down stairs. After talking with him for about two hours I finally hung up and went back down stairs to see Frank reading some lame ass book.

He looked up at me and asked, “Do you need something?”

“No,” I answered and went to sit on the floor in front of the TV. I turned it on, put on what I wanted, and turned it down so it was loud enough for me to hear and for him to read in peace and that’s pretty much how the night went.

There was no real conversation. Nothing important happened and it went by pretty quickly.

I yawned around eleven and finally decided to go to bed. Rubbing my eyes I said good night to Frank and headed upstairs to my bed where I lied down and curled up under the covers. Slowly, my eyes began to fall and I was almost asleep when…

My door creaked opened. I could hear him, his slow footsteps heading towards my bed. I waited to see what he was going to do and kept my eyes shut just in case. When he got beside me I felt the bed dip, but I was silent and waited…

I felt him lean in. His hand rubbed my shoulder like it used to when he used to tuck me in at night…

He reached for my blankets and tucked them around me, to keep me warm. He re-adjusted my pillow, the way I used to always sleep with it, and sometimes still do. I felt his fingers run through my hair, just like he used to do, before I felt him kiss my temple and whisper, “I’m sorry.”

And I never knew how two little words could just fix everything…