Lightweight. | ✔

Chapter Nine.

"Lyla,” My dad called that night. I drifted my focus away from my math homework, and towards him.

He braced unto his hands that were gripping the island counter. His face was set in a frown and his brows pulled together, as if he was displeased about something.

I raised one of my brows quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“I called the mortgage company today. Our payment was two thousand dollars short," He states, looking at me expectantly.

I swallowed nervously and looked unto my paper of unsolved math equations. I totally discarded Percy’s advice of telling my father that our funds will be short this month. Him finding out this way, is going to make this even more difficult for me and immediately I regretted my cowardly actions.

“I couldn’t pay all of it, I wanted to spilt some for our home expenses without dipping into our savings,” I says softly.

“What?” he hissed and I flinched slightly, “Did those people not pay you?”

“No…they…they are changing our contract. They won’t be buying any of my paintings until next month Dad. I-I wanted to tell you since last week, but I didn’t want you to worry-”

“WORRY?” he shouts and I snapped my eyes to his shockingly. A raging storm was prominent in his eyes, as it always is when he is upset. But my father never raises his voice at me. Ever. “How about me going to prison Lyla?”

I gripped my pencil tightly feeling my blood boiling in me. “There’s nothing to worry about Dad. I had sent an email for an extension and they approved it. Plus I should be receiving a call from the gallery sometime this week. Every thing will be back on track, I promise," I explained hurriedly.

A foreign fright consumed my mind, at my father getting abusive. I can’t remember a time he’s been this livid with me.

He didn’t bother to respond to me. Instead, he stared at me for a long, tension-filled moment, gripping the island so tightly, his fingers turned pale, before quietly walking towards the staircase and disappearing a few seconds later. When he did, I exhaled in relief and ran a hand through my hair. I took two deep inhales, in hope to calm my pumping heart, while I pondered on my father’s behavior.

There was something frightening about him.

The thought made me uneasy, and for the first time in my life, I felt unsafe around him.

That night I went to bed with worry. I suddenly grew desperate at gaining a response from the Gallery immediately. I can handle all the matters of becoming a more prominent painter for them later. Right now, I need everything to go track as it once was.

The next morning, I woke up extremely early. My lack of a good rest showed under my eyes, and I had to use some concealer to hide it. I slipped into a pair of dark blue jeans, a white blouse and a dark leather jacket I haven’t worn in ages.

I pushed my feet into my black converse, grabbed my phone and quietly shuffled downstairs.

It was eight by the time I decide to leave, and my father still didn’t come downstairs. I chewed my lips in thought while I walked towards the bus stop.

I didn’t like the fact that my father was upset with me. He was all I had. I never knew my mom. I heard she died during child birth and left some money as insurance for my college tuition. My father was working pretty well for as long as I could remember. Then one of the contractors he worked with screwed him over and eventually he started wallowing in debts.

It got so bad that he started to drink and gamble a lot. Vector Academy added fuel to the fire when they posted his debts on their website, and it was then I knew I had to somehow step in.