// C H A P T E R F O U R //

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"Where have you been all day?" My dad asked as soon as I walked through the door. I tucked my hand in my sleeve slyly, hiding the number George had written on it.

"Psychologists." I answered, eager to get to my bedroom.

"Until nearly night? It's pouring outside I started to get worried." He said, crouched over and looking through a pile of junk mail.

I supposed he had lost something. I didn't ask, otherwise he'd probably tell me he needed help. Helping him was the last thing I felt like doing...too much had happened in my day for me to not want to just go lay on my bed and reflect on it, and write in my journal.

"Oh. I met some friends." I said slowly.

He looked up at me, putting the envelopes in his hand down.

"Friends?" He asked.

I just nodded, I knew he was surprised, but he didn't even seem happy for me...he'd always wanted me to make friends and be more social, what was the big deal? I could see the stress in his eyes.

"Listen, Katie, don't go around calling everyone your...friends...friends are people you--"

"Spend a lot of time with and know everything about," I recited, "I know, dad. I meant I met...new people." I sighed.

He laughed, a false and sarcastic laugh, "look I'm not trying to bring you down I just--"

"I know, dad, it's fine. May I go to my room now?" I asked, growing frustrated with him.

"Well, you're an adult, do what you want." He shrugged, going back to his papers.

I stared at him for a moment, I felt embarrassed all of a sudden. In front of my own father. I felt stupid to have told him I had made...friends today. I felt stupid to have asked to go to my room.

My dad and I were pretty distant from one another. We had an okay relationship, I'm not exactly a daddy's girl or anything close. We have our laughs, our ups, our downs...he's pretty much just whatever. I do love him though.

He looked up at me, wondering why I was still standing there, obviously.

I walked away, finally. Heading upstairs and opening my bedroom door. I had seen all of my school books stacked on my desk.

Sweet! He ordered them already.

Usually my dad was slow at everything, leaving it to him to order my university text books I feared I might not have gotten them at all.I figured my mom had probably called him up and nagged him enough about it. I walked over to the window, watching the rain. London was strange. It was beautiful, probably the most beautiful place I had ever seen...but...I hadn't been many places in my lifetime.

I still couldn't understand why my dad moved so far away...we had nothing here. No family, no friends...and he was so far away from mother...

I took my jacket off and pulled out a hanger from the closet, hanging it on my doorknob to dry off. Then took out my phone, recording George's number to it. I wanted so badly to text him, but it seemed so juvenile. Only in high school was it okay to text so much...I noticed as high school was over, most people only text each other if they needed something, or had something to say really fast...

"It's me Katie." I sent, just so he'd take down my number also. I set down my phone and stood up. I turned back around and stuck it under my pillow. I don't care when he replies. I lied to myself.

I went to the drawer and pulled out some leggings and a comfy t-shirt. I wished I had a pair of sweats...they would have been the most comfortable bit of clothing to own and wear as of now. I didn't have clothes like that...I only even had one pair of leggings. I dressed up a lot, just because I loved to mimic the old time actresses of the late fifties and early sixties...and if I wasn't doing that, I was in jeans. I owned tons and tons of jeans.

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