Breaking His Rules

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Kayla's POV

Usually on Wednesday, it's a pain for me to get out of bed, but today it was different. Today was the eighteenth birthday of the most special girl in the world Kayla Barnes. Yes. That's me.

I practically jump out of bed, rush into the shower, and within minutes, I am struggling into my school uniform which is a white long sleeved shirt, red skirt, white socks, red tie and black shoes. I take off the tie and popped off the first two buttons of my shirt showing the tattoo on my collar bone, before deciding to also wear my combat boots instead of the black shoes beside my bed. Satisfied, I applied some black eyeliner and looked in the mirror. The reflection of an olive skinned girl with long waist-length black hair and emerald eyes stared back at me. I grinned, before tying my red school blazer around my waist, grabbing my school bag, making my way downstairs where my dad was seated at the dining table, reading a newspaper.

He looks up as I enter with a fond smile. I smiled back.

"Well, well", he smiles as he stood up, walking around the table and giving me a hug before he pushed me away slightly. "If it isn't my little girl getting all grown up. You look more like your mother every day". He said this with a wistful sad smile.

It has been ten years since the death of my mother, but my dad still gets sad every time he speaks about her. She was an Italian immigrant and he was her American boss when he fell in love with her and they were married two months after they met. It was obvious that I got my dark skin and long hair from her, though my green eyes came from my dad. I missed her very much, some days more than others, and I often went to her grave site to feel her presence.

I hug my father again, knowing that he too is thinking of her, before he waves me away with a smile. "Today isn't a day for tears, Kay. Today, we celebrate", he says in Italian, and I smile.

"So does this mean that I won't go to school today?", I ask as he goes back to his seat and I start to prepare some cereal.

He gives me a mock frown. "Nice try, but you aren't getting out of school that easily, and please try to avoid being sent to detention this time.", he says sternly, but with a twinkle in his eyes.

This is why I love my father. He knows I am rebellious. He knows I break the rules and dress codes of school. He knows about the tattoos and parties and yet he was so chill about everything I did, as long as I wasn't hurting myself or others with my lifestyle.

"I make no promises about staying out of detention", I smirk and he sighs in fake disappointment.

"So what are your plans for today", he asks.

"I think Steph and Jason planned for us to go bowling or something", I said with a smile. I always smile when I talked about Jason. He was the jock of the school and my boyfriend of two years. He was one of the people who supported me and never judged me for getting so many detentions – in fact he was quite a rule breaker himself, and was continually arguing with our class captain, who happened to be a stickler for keeping to the rules.

"So is there anything that you would like me to get you for your birthday?", my father asked with a knowing smile. I always asked for the same thing every year – art supplies.

"Well I need a new sketchpad, and probably some ink pens?", I half question, and my dad smiles at me.

"No problem", he says, and I excitedly clap my hands.

My dad looks like he's about to say something, but he looks at his watch and stops. "Oh my goodness. I'm going to be late for work and you, young lady, are going to be late for school."

"Relax dad, I'm always late for school", I smirk as I hurriedly finish up my coco pops.

He glares at me, and I hold up my hands in surrender. "Fine", I say. "Let's go".