The President's Daughter (Original) ✔️

3. Oops

Damien's POV

It is dark out by the time I leave Zach's house. It is quiet at this time and it's nights like these where I can't help but wonder what my parents are doing right now? When I was younger we would walk the streets of California and just circle around the block for about 20 minutes, just talking. Do they think about me? Do they talk about me? Do they miss me?

But then I chastise myself at the thought. If they really cared they wouldn't have given me a place free-of-rent (since they pay for it) just so I can leave them alone. Being in a gang isn't a reason to abandon your child. And they never failed to remind me how disappointed they were. Gang members aren't your friends, they would say. They're your partners when is convenient and enemies otherwise. I didn't even bother telling them when I left that life because by then, they had made up their decision to kick me out of the house.

Which was fine by me. Who wouldn't want a free place to themselves? And no parents to be breathing down your neck? They're dead to me anyway. Or at least that's what I try to convince myself.

I shove my hands in my pockets as the wind starts to pick up.

"Damien?" I raise my head to see a girl with dark hair blowing in her face. Cellie. Jane had introduced me to her at the party. We were having a great conversation and started dancing together when Jane dragged me away. As I look down at her, I realize there's something strange about her.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?" I ask.

She shrugs and looks away. "I needed to take my mind off of things. Thought walking would help."

"Is it? Helping," I clarify.

She lets out a forced laugh as she tucks the flying strands behind her ears. "No."

"Your real hair's black," I state the obvious, finally noticing what was different about her.

"Yeah, I've had blue for a while." She digs her toes into the ground and start twisting her feet. This must be as awkward for me as it is for her.

"Where you headed?"

"Home."

"I can drive you. My car's parked at my house."

She looks at me in a strange way. "I think I want to walk."

I shrug. "Your loss." I start walking even though we're headed the same way.

She laughs quietly. "Are you always like that?"

"Like what?" I turn to look at her.

"Cocky."

I raise an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

"I can tell a lot about a person by looking at them."

"Oh yeah?" I let out a laugh. "Tell me then."

"I just told you."

"So impressive," I say sarcastically. "You practically know me now." She smiles at me. We walk in silent for a while before she asks.

"So what's going on with you and Hope?"

"Hope? I don't know. We're just friends." I don't know why I said that, but it isn't really a lie. We haven't met up yet but we text frequently. Weirdly, she's as shy on the phone as she is in person.

"She says the same thing." She cocks her head at me. She's about to say something when I stop walking.

"This is me," I nod at my house.

"Not bad," She says, eyeing the dead flowers on the lawn. The porch light is on, making it look worse than it looks in the day.

"It's not as bad as it looks." I scratch my head, trying to explain.