Ink (Book 1 of the Ink Series)

Darkness

It was morning. I was two days away from starting Ashwilder. My stomach crawled with nerves, ones that were so strong I barely could stomach my toast. Dad came from his room dressed in a green shirt, a tie in his hand. He did his best to straighten out his pants that were a bit wrinkled.

"Good morning munchkin," he said, snagging a banana off the countertop.

I looked him over. There was no way I was letting him leave the house looking so messy. "Dad give me your pants, I'll go iron them."

He chuckled. "That's not your job, Hope."

I took my plate to the sink. It didn't matter if it was my job or not, he was my dad. I wouldn't let him leave the house and make a fool of himself.

"Just give me your pants," I told him again.

He sighed, undoing his belt. He chucked the pants at me, a grin on his face. "Hurry up with those. I got thirty minutes before I have to be to work." He cleared dishes from the table, leaving me to iron his pants.

Elliot and Easton nearly mowed me over in the hallway.

"We are going to the arcades and then surfing. Don't bother looking for us," they told me. I nodded. It wasn't like I was going to anyway. They were old enough to fend for themselves.

I plugged in the iron, tapping it lightly with my hand, waiting for the heat to kick on. I wasn't sure what I would do today. I figured a walk with Crawford would suffice before I fell into boredom.

"Is there anything you would like to talk about before I am off to work?" Dad asked in my doorway. His legs looked a bit chicken-like in his boxer shorts.

I started ironing his pants. What was there to say?

"No. Anything you want to say?" I shot back. The steam hissed and crackled.

"I'm sorry if this is really taking a toll on you."

I had a feeling Dad overheard me crying last night in my room. "It will work out, it always does. Right, Dad?"

Dad braced himself in my doorway, determined to break through my wall, one that I didn't want to let down. I just wanted a little space, some time to adjust. I worried if he didn't let me have that I would end up blowing up. And I didn't want to do that to him.

"I went to a concert last night with that boy from the other night." I worked really carefully on his pants now, not lifting my head to catch his expression. It probably was a shocked one.

Dad cleared his throat, an eerie silence sprang up between us before he said, "I want you to say stay away from him. But if you're getting out there, then I'm just going to keep my mouth shut. I did kind of take your whole life away from you."

I set the iron down on my desk. "No, you didn't. Mom did." I handed over his pants. "And I don't want to talk about it. Have a good day at work, Dad."

Dad gave me a knowing glance. He blew me a kiss, leaving my room. I looked at Crawford, he let out a sigh. "Come on, Crawford. We are going to go for a walk."

Seagulls soared overhead, occasionally diving toward the shore. I wondered what they were eating. It was a really windy day and I had to use every muscle in my body to keep from toppling over or being dragged through the sand by Crawford and the wind. Several surfers dotted the sands, kids built sand castles and girls in tiny bikinis laid out trying to catch a good tan. And there I was, walking my dog.

I held tight to Crawford's leash as we headed toward a couple girls on beach towels. Crawford whined, pulling me faster. The first girl was busy drenching her arms in white globs of sunscreen. Her hair was red and her skin milky white. I got the idea that she probably burned easily, as fair as she was. Her friend—a blonde—lay sprawled across the beach towel, her body bronzed like a goddess. Several of her ribs showed through her skin. She had a cherry bellybutton ring and a tiny star tattooed on her hip. Her hot pink, barely-there bikini screamed look at me.