Chapter 41 -

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Of course, when I arrived home, my mother immediately forced me to show her my dress. I was careful to hide the bra and panties, and perfume, from her when she entered my room.

"I'm all done!" I called out, zipping up the last of my dress.

She barges in instantly, like she was waiting with her nose against my door. And she looks calm for a short moment, and then she bursts into tears.

"Oh, dear," I murmur, walking over to her. I rest my hand on my shoulder gently and ask, "mom, you good?"

She sniffles and looks up, wiping snot on her favorite sweater's sleeve. "I just, you look so beautiful." She smiles.

"Thank you, mum." I grin, pecking her on the cheek.

"Mum? You talk like an Aussie now," she teases. Then her expression changes to serious and she says, "change, and come downstairs. I'd like to show you something."

With that, she exits my bedroom. Quickly, I change into grey sweatpants and a red t-shirt. I'm curious as to what she'll show me, so I rush downstairs in a hurry and meet her in the living room.

Mom is sitting on the couch, a book of some sort on her lap. Her eyes lock onto mine as soon as I enter the room and she pats the space beside her. I don't hesitate to sit beside her.

"What is it?" I ask, gazing curiously down at the book. The cover has a floral design, with no title.

"An old high school scrapbook of mine." She flips it open to the first page.

Scribbled at the very top in hot pink are the words "freshman year." Below that is a picture with around fifty people.

"My class," my mother answers my questioning thoughts.

I can spot out my mother right away, with her long, curly blonde locks and her stunning blue eyes. Her smile is wide, teeth perfectly aligned and whitened.

"What I really wanted to show you," she pauses, flipping to another page deep within the book. "Was this," she finishes.

The picture is of her, but this time, with a boy. My father.

My jaw drops as I look at how amazing he used to look. His brown hair swept to the side, chocolate brown eyes that pierce into mine. His tux is perfect, no doubt my grandmother had helped him with it. His smile is great, too. Even wider than my mother's.

Beside him stands my mother, their hands laced together. She's in a light pink dress that reaches to her ankles. Her beautiful hair is styled into a fishtail braid, her make up to perfection.

"Wow," I mumble to myself.

Tears spring to my eyes as I compare my father in high school, to how he is now. His hair probably more grey than it was before he was arrested, wearing an orange outfit, hidden behind bars for a murder he mistakenly committed.

"Thank you for showing me this," I say, leaning my head on my mother's shoulder.

"Of course, sweetie." Looking down at me, she smiles and I return the gesture.

"Now you go on up, shower and do whatever, then get some sleep. You've been out all day and my baby needs her beauty sleep," my mother tells me.

Laughing quietly, I nod and stand up. Upstairs I take my shower, and by the time I get out my fingers appear like raisins.

After blow drying my hair, I scroll through my Twitter feed for a while, and then I get my much needed, and well deserved, I should think, sleep.

-

At school the next day, I was wandering to my sixth period class when a familiar boy came up to me. I had seen him around the school before, and he sat at the back of my math class.

His name is Trey, I'm not sure about his last name, and he's a straight-A student. With his black hair that's combed back (which he most likely spent an hour on it, meticulously getting every hair in the correct spot), dark green eyes that captivates you the minute you catch his gaze, any girl would be a sucker for him. Let's not forget his amazing sense of style.

"Hey, Ella," he greets me. He adjusts the strap of his backpack before continuing. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to the homecoming dance with me?"

I was about to speak, and explain that I already was going with my friends, when a warm hand lands softly, yet firmly, on my shoulder.

"She already has a date, sorry," Ashton says coldly. Trey stutters an apology before rushing away.

Pursing my lips, I shrug Ashton's hand off of my shoulder and spin around. "Really?"

"What? You'll be occupied that night, anyways," he smirks, glancing around quickly for a teacher who might be looking our way, and kisses me on the lips gently.

"You're going to homecoming?" I ask, leaning backwards to look at him, my eyebrows raised.

"No, of course not." He steps back from me, only a little bit, but I can tell. His eyes are hard, with a cold tint to them now.

"Well, I am. With or without you," I reply just as the bell rings. I groan and turn away, mumbling, "I'm late now."

In class, I manage to sneak to my seat while my teacher takes attendance. As I sit down, she calls my name and I say, "here!"

I'm slightly hurt that Ashton doesn't want to go to homecoming with me, but at least I have my friends to go with.

By the time I get home I'm absolutely exhausted, from all the classes and avoiding Ashton's eyes in the hallways. I sigh when I remember all of the homework I have to complete.

In my room I drop my book bag on the floor and change into an old sweater of my dads and sweat pants.

Crawling into bed, I can smell my fathers scent on the sweater. The sweater is warm and cozy and it engulfs my small frame.

I close my eyes, ready to fall asleep after a tiring day, when my phone rings.

"What the hell?" I moan, flipping over to retrieve my phone from my bedside table.

I answer it, putting it to my ear. I hadn't bothered to check the contact name, so I wait for a voice to sound.

"Hello?" Someone says quietly.

"Who is this?" I ask politely.

"Um, Luke," he sniffles.

"Oh, hey Luke!" I smile at the sound of his voice, but frown when I sense something's wrong. "Is everything okay?"

"N-no," he says, his voice cracking. And then he lets out a sob. "If I text you an address, will you come?"

"Always, Luke. I'll always come," I promise him.

And I mean it. For the months I've been here, Luke has been here through everything. If in ten years he arrives at my door step, a broken look in his eyes, I would do my best to mend him.

So I change into shorts I wore when I played volleyball in seventh grade (and yes, I do still fit them), a white tank top, a light blue jacket, and slip into my tennis shoes.

Downstairs, I quickly explain to my mother that I have to go do something very important. And with her permission to leave, I do just that.

-

hi guys
Ok so the chapters kinda short but I wanted to stop it there :)
And I have a new story out, called 'Stuck', it's a Luke Hemmings fan fiction and I'd really like if you guys checked it out! I'm really excited for it
I hope you liked the chapter, and thank you for reading ! :)

My Daddy || Ashton IrwinWhere stories live. Discover now