𝑨 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝑨𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆 - Chapter Twenty-Eight

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"So do you think you can make it?"

You let out a small weary sigh as you close your eyes, feeling as the cold material of the phone press up against your ear, sending small shivers down your spine.

"I don't know..."

"Please Y/n... it's the last game and I want to see your beautiful face up in the stands." Bruce's flirtatious pleading voice, muffled from the other side of the line.

You open your eyes feeling a small smile place itself on your slightly chapped lips. You reminded yourself you didn't have anything else to do, and you should be there for your friend.

"Fine I'll be there Bruce." You concluded, hearing a small excited gasp on the other side.

"That's great!" Bruce spoke excitedly, his tone rising a tad higher, "I'll see you later than, remember it starts at three o'clock today."

You let out a small huff before giving a small nod. "Alright, sounds good. I'll see you later than."

"Bye, beautiful."

Letting a small stifled laugh, you hang the phone back up onto the ugly printed walls. Your hand has healed quite a bit, now only becoming a bloody scar with crust surrounding it, in attempt to fully heal. Although it was quite hard to hide it from your father.

You had been telling him small lies about the injury on your hand, claiming it had been from falling onto the sidewalk. You didn't want to worry your father more as it is, for he's been more strict and filled with worry for you and setting more strict boundaries ever since the disappearances of your beloved friends had come into play.

"What was that about?" A deep voice asked, causing you to let out a squeak and jump in surprise.

You whirled around, your face visibly relaxing once you realized it was non other than your father, who is propped up against the wall, with a brow raised.

"Oh hey dad." You spoke, sending him a smile in attempt to hide your nervousness that was eating you inside.

"Who was on the phone?" Your dad asked, propelling himself off of the ugly printed walls, walking towards you.

"Just a friend." You dismissed, pulling the fridge door open, as your eyes scanned the cold food. Your dad let out a grunt, before standing next to you.

"You headed somewhere?" He asked, as your patience slowly began to fade away from your dad's oppressive questions.

"Matter of fact, I am." You curtly replied, grabbing the ingredients to make a sandwich.

Your father had a face that showed clear disapproval, as his lips formed a thin line.

"Y/n-"

"Dad, don't. I love you but I'm going." You cut him off, staring at him with furrowed brows.

Your dad let a long sigh, before looking at you. "Fine. But please be careful."

You nodded, flashing your dad a grateful smile. "Thanks dad. I will."

Your dad nodded in response, exiting the room, leaving you to eat your sandwich.