With You Is Where I Want to Be

"For two reasons. First Beacon Hills is not far from Los Angeles, which is a very high crime area. And second this town is surrounded by forest, which is where a number of wild animals live. That's why." I now understood why everyone was telling me it was unsafe. Criminals and wild animals, Beacon Hills must be in a very bad area in California. I just now wonder what business my dad has here.

"See now that makes sense," I laughed, but Derek did not laugh or even crack a smile. Instead he pulled the car over and shifted into park. I looked around and noticed that we were already right outside my new home.

"See you around," Derek waved.

"Next time you need to find a smoother way of picking up chicks. You were a little creepy back there," I tried to make Derek laugh again. This time he looked over at me and did smile, so I smiled back. "Just kidding, see you later. Bye." I opened the car door and got out closing it behind me. Turning around I walked onto my new front yard. At the same time I reached for my purse to get out my new set of house keys. Once I found them in my cluttered purse I had reached the front door. Unlocking it I quietly walked in and closed the door, locking it behind me. I remembered that it was passed midnight according to Derek's car; my parents were probably already sleeping.

"Where were you darling? It's late, passed your bedtime. You had your mother and I worried sick." The lights flickered on and I jumped in surprise, my dad was standing on the balcony of the second floor. I looked up and noticed he was waiting for me, I could tell by the half empty wine glass and the disappointment on his face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was going to be out so late. After the basketball game ended I hung out with a couple of students from my Honors II Chemistry class. I guess I just lost track of time, I'm sorry I didn't call you father," I left out a couple of details; I did not want him to know that I had been at a drinking party. My dad being from a high class family of England, he is very conservative and traditional. He would throw a fit if he had known the truth about my whereabouts. After all I am still his little girl, his only child.

"What is that smell?" He asked in a harsher tone that had caused his British accent to become very thick. I trembled and looked down; I could tell that he could smell the alcohol.

"Father, I promise you I have not been drinking. At a party I bumped into someone and had vodka spilled on my shoes. Nothing happened tonight, I swear. I would never do anything that would make you disapprove of me."

"Not that smell," My dad told me with a cynical look on his face.

"What?" I asked, so confused on what he was talking about. What else did he smell, drugs? I did not think I was with anyone tonight that had been on drugs, maybe just alcohol.

"Ah - come up for bed, Jessica." He waved me over and I obeyed, carefully walking up the stairs. I was afraid to be near him now since I had made him angry, I was afraid that he was going to smell my breath. I hate conflict and most importantly I hate disappointing my dad.