Is This Really Happening?

I had set my clock for 6:30, and it was going off.

"Oh my God," I groaned as I tried to open my eyes. Five minutes later, Dad was opening my door and calling me.

"Jean-o, you gotta a get up. We need to be leaving by 8. Don't fall back to sleep."

"I'm up," I said, slowly sitting up. I gave myself a few minutes to just sit there before getting out of bed.

"And don't dress like a slob!" he shouted from the living room.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, walking over to my dresser. I pulled out a pair of Bermuda's that went down to my knees, and a white tank-top that had a looser-fitting green tank-top attached to it. I put those on along with a pair of flip flops and went into the living room. It was about 7:00 now, so I still had an hour before we had to leave. I plopped down on the couch and petted the dogs. "So where are we going for breakfast?" I asked.

"You sure you want to wear those shoes? You might be doing a lot of walking," he said, tying his own shoes.

"Fine, I'll put on my gym shoes," I huffed, standing up and going back to my room to get a pair of socks and my gym shoes. Then I went back out and asked my question again. "Again, where are we going for breakfast?" I asked, a little annoyed.

"We're meeting them at Watertower Place, okay?"

"Fine. Can we go now? I'm ready to go."

"In a hurry?"

"No, I'm just bored and ready to go."

"Alright, let's go."

In the Car----

As soon as I buckled my seat belt I pulled out my iPod and put the ear-buds in. It was going to take us at least 45 minutes to get downtown.

"What's the matter, Jean-o?" Dad asked after about 20 minutes.

"Nothing. I'm just tired and want to go back to bed," I said, looking straight ahead out the windshield.

"Well sorry. Can you at least try and be nice today, please?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you." The rest of the drive was silent, me listening to my music and Dad listening to the radio.

"Start shutting everything down; we're just about there."

"Okay," I mumbled, turning off my iPod. "Are we going to an actual restaurant in Watertower Place, or a food court type thing?" I asked.

"An actual restaurant, and it has a great view of Millennium Park, so you'll be entertained," he said sarcastically.

"I'm actually not that hungry."

"You feeling okay? You're almost always hungry," he asked, putting the back of his hand to my forehead. I swatted him away.

"I'm fine. Just not hungry."

"Nervous?"

"No. I'm just not hungry, okay?" I asked, my temper rising.

"Okay, geez. Don't get bitchy. We're here," he said, putting the car in park inside the parking garage. Luckily he parked in the spot right next to the stairs and elevators. "It's on the 6th floor," he said when we got inside. I pressed the "6" button and the doors closed. We started to rise, and the next thing I knew the doors were opening again.

We got out of the elevator and Dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I shrugged him off. "What was that for?" he asked.

"Sorry. I just don't really like being touched very much. It makes me feel weird," I said, giving him an apologetic look.

"Heh heh, you're weird Jean-o," he laughed as we walked down the hall.

"Gee, thanks," I muttered.

"You need to lighten up. You know I'm just kidding."

"Uh-huh. Where is this restaurant anyway?" I asked, my patience starting to escape me. And the day hadn't even really started yet. 'This is going to be a long day,' I thought to myself as we approached a set of doors.

"Here we are," Dad said as he opened the doors to the restaurant.