Status: I'm going to try this and see if it works out.
Fine
003.
"Mike, before you actually read this, can you just take a second to think about how incredibly wrong this is? I know you're worried, but this isn't...right. There has to be a better way to handle this," Tré said, as he put his hand over the page, covering all of the writing.
I wanted to rip the diary out from underneath his hand, but a part of me knew that he was right.
He slowly took the diary out of my grasp and closed it carefully, purposely diverting his eyes away from it, so he wouldn't accidentally read anything.
I stayed silent as I came to the realization that I was taking this to an extreme.
I placed the diary in the exact place where I had found it and looked up at Tré.
"You're doing the right thing," He said reassuringly, while patting my back.
I walked out of her bedroom, Tré following behind.
I felt terrible. But I didn't feel that way because I almost did something wrong, I felt terrible because I still wanted to go back in there and look at her diary. I wanted to continue to search her room.
And it was then that I realized that I was no longer the cool dad. But, to be fair, Penelope was no longer the cool daughter, either.
------------------------------------------
I opened my locker and threw my textbooks in, not bothering to actually stack them. It had been a long and frustrating day.
I failed two tests, one in my American Literature AP class, and another in my Chemistry 101 class. Dad would not be happy about that.
I slammed my locker door closed and slung my purple backpack over my shoulder. I was about to walk out when my friend, Sadie, grabbed my wrist.
"Hey! Are you going to the party tonight?" She asked, excitedly. I smiled, but shook my head.
"I wish I could, but there is no way my Dad is going to let me go. He has been on my case all week and I can guarantee he won't be willing to let me go out," I explained, as we walked down the crowded hallway.
"Oh, come on! Your Dad is so cool, though. Why wouldn't he let you go?" She asked, perplexed by the idea of my Dad being like any other father.
We sat on the curb outside of school, waiting to be picked up.
"I don't know. He thinks that there is something wrong with me, even though I keep telling him I'm fine," I answered.
We sat in silence until Dad pulled up in his shiny, black BMW.
I waved goodbye to Sadie before Dad pulled away. He glanced over at me and smiled.
"How was your day?" He asked, cheerfully. I shrugged and placed my backpack in the backseat.
"Not very good. I failed two tests," I muttered, watching as his smile disappeared.
"Penelope, you are better than this. You are an intelligent girl. You're capable of more than what you're putting out, and you know that."
I rolled my eyes.
"Jesus Christ, it's not like I meant to fail them, Dad," I replied, wishing that I hadn't said anything. I couldn't tell him anything without him overreacting.
"You never used to fail tests, Penelope. You aren't trying hard enough. Your past two report cards have been horrible and if you have any desire to go to college and make a future for yourself, you need to be better," he stated.
I shook my head, frustrated that I even bothered to talk to him.
Despite the way I was talking to him, I truly wanted to have a heart-to-heart conversation, like we used to have together. But every time that I try to talk to him, he says something that irritates me and therefore, ruins any chance of having a positive conversation.
"All I'm saying, Penelope, is that I believe in you. I see a beautiful, bright girl with a wealth of potential. But what good is potential if you squander every opportunity you run into?"
I didn't respond, mostly because I was taken aback by what he said. His words made me feel warm and loved.
"I love you unconditionally, Penelope," Dad murmured.
"I love you, too," I mumbled, my eyes coated with tears. I held them back, though, not wanting him to notice.
We got home, just as it started to rain. I ran inside, using my backpack as a makeshift umbrella, the raindrops cascading off of it like a moving veil.
I went inside and made my way upstairs with my wet book bag. Encouraged by my talk with Dad, I pulled my chemistry text book out and threw it onto my bed.
For a half an hour, I tried to study. But I was still stuck on the first paragraph. I couldn't get myself to be interested in this work. And as I tried to reread the same paragraph for the tenth time in thirty minutes, I found myself growing so frustrated that I slammed the book closed.
Fuck it.
"I'm going to take a nap. Okay, Dad?" I called out from my room.
"Alright, sweetheart," He hollered back, no doubt drinking beer and screwing around on his bass guitar.
I closed my bedroom door and locked it, just to ensure that my Dad would not intrude while I escaped from reality.
I pulled out a tablet and placed it onto my tongue.
I wanted to rip the diary out from underneath his hand, but a part of me knew that he was right.
He slowly took the diary out of my grasp and closed it carefully, purposely diverting his eyes away from it, so he wouldn't accidentally read anything.
I stayed silent as I came to the realization that I was taking this to an extreme.
I placed the diary in the exact place where I had found it and looked up at Tré.
"You're doing the right thing," He said reassuringly, while patting my back.
I walked out of her bedroom, Tré following behind.
I felt terrible. But I didn't feel that way because I almost did something wrong, I felt terrible because I still wanted to go back in there and look at her diary. I wanted to continue to search her room.
And it was then that I realized that I was no longer the cool dad. But, to be fair, Penelope was no longer the cool daughter, either.
------------------------------------------
I opened my locker and threw my textbooks in, not bothering to actually stack them. It had been a long and frustrating day.
I failed two tests, one in my American Literature AP class, and another in my Chemistry 101 class. Dad would not be happy about that.
I slammed my locker door closed and slung my purple backpack over my shoulder. I was about to walk out when my friend, Sadie, grabbed my wrist.
"Hey! Are you going to the party tonight?" She asked, excitedly. I smiled, but shook my head.
"I wish I could, but there is no way my Dad is going to let me go. He has been on my case all week and I can guarantee he won't be willing to let me go out," I explained, as we walked down the crowded hallway.
"Oh, come on! Your Dad is so cool, though. Why wouldn't he let you go?" She asked, perplexed by the idea of my Dad being like any other father.
We sat on the curb outside of school, waiting to be picked up.
"I don't know. He thinks that there is something wrong with me, even though I keep telling him I'm fine," I answered.
We sat in silence until Dad pulled up in his shiny, black BMW.
I waved goodbye to Sadie before Dad pulled away. He glanced over at me and smiled.
"How was your day?" He asked, cheerfully. I shrugged and placed my backpack in the backseat.
"Not very good. I failed two tests," I muttered, watching as his smile disappeared.
"Penelope, you are better than this. You are an intelligent girl. You're capable of more than what you're putting out, and you know that."
I rolled my eyes.
"Jesus Christ, it's not like I meant to fail them, Dad," I replied, wishing that I hadn't said anything. I couldn't tell him anything without him overreacting.
"You never used to fail tests, Penelope. You aren't trying hard enough. Your past two report cards have been horrible and if you have any desire to go to college and make a future for yourself, you need to be better," he stated.
I shook my head, frustrated that I even bothered to talk to him.
Despite the way I was talking to him, I truly wanted to have a heart-to-heart conversation, like we used to have together. But every time that I try to talk to him, he says something that irritates me and therefore, ruins any chance of having a positive conversation.
"All I'm saying, Penelope, is that I believe in you. I see a beautiful, bright girl with a wealth of potential. But what good is potential if you squander every opportunity you run into?"
I didn't respond, mostly because I was taken aback by what he said. His words made me feel warm and loved.
"I love you unconditionally, Penelope," Dad murmured.
"I love you, too," I mumbled, my eyes coated with tears. I held them back, though, not wanting him to notice.
We got home, just as it started to rain. I ran inside, using my backpack as a makeshift umbrella, the raindrops cascading off of it like a moving veil.
I went inside and made my way upstairs with my wet book bag. Encouraged by my talk with Dad, I pulled my chemistry text book out and threw it onto my bed.
For a half an hour, I tried to study. But I was still stuck on the first paragraph. I couldn't get myself to be interested in this work. And as I tried to reread the same paragraph for the tenth time in thirty minutes, I found myself growing so frustrated that I slammed the book closed.
Fuck it.
"I'm going to take a nap. Okay, Dad?" I called out from my room.
"Alright, sweetheart," He hollered back, no doubt drinking beer and screwing around on his bass guitar.
I closed my bedroom door and locked it, just to ensure that my Dad would not intrude while I escaped from reality.
I pulled out a tablet and placed it onto my tongue.