"Today, however can change things for better or worse. The outcome depends on you."
When a marriage fails the residue trickles down to everyone in the family. Sixteen-year-old Daya Nicole Johnston must fight to understand what is happening in her li...
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Day Seven - December 9, Sunday
Everything is different now. The beginning of the week feels like miles away. I know why you left us, and I know the many excruciating details of the encounters. I begged to have the answers and now that I do, I don't know what to do with them. Grasping all of this, I still yearn for my father. I miss you still, and I want to have the old you back. It seems like an impossible feat, yet I'm still hopeful. I wish I could ask for your perspective on my life. What do you think I should do? You and mom always give different advice. What would my dad do?
I pointed at myself, "We don't always get what we want, Ollie."
"What do you want Daya," he said in a breathy tone.
I bit my lip, "I wish you were here. You're still my favorite pillow," my heart was beating out of my chest.
"I'm on my way," was the last thing I heard before the phone hung up. What had I gotten myself into?I almost tripped over my covers as I hurried to my window. Some time went by before I saw a silhouette of him coming into frame. I cannot believe he actually had the guts to show up. I opened my window and waved down at him.
"Banks," I whisper-yelled.
He walked over to the tree by my window, "Can I climb this," he inquired.
"It's possible, but I don't know if you can do it," I jeered. I watched as he like greased lightning made his way up the tree until he was face to face with me.
"Are you going to let me in," he quirked his eyebrow.
"Yeah," I backed away slowly, and he entered the window. We stood with about five paces of space between us. I was in front of him wearing only a tank top and my underwear.
"I didn't think you were actually coming," he gradually made his way over to me.
The moonlight was the only thing illuminating my room. "I thought you trusted me," he held my cheekbones and then over my lips.
"I do," I barely managed to get the words out. His hand slowly trickled down my arm while the other touched the exposed skin on my back. The night wind whispered sweet nothings into my skin.
With one pull, our bodies were brought together, and I pressed myself against him. I pushed off his varsity jacket as his lips found my neck again.
"Be careful not to scar me," I whispered. His hand traveled back up my arm and into my hair, releasing it from its bun and onto my back. He kissed my neck, then my jawline, until his lips finally made contact with mine. Our mouths pressed together in sublime harmony like two bodies naturally finding one another.
The moonlight was fighting to fit into the tiny crevices between us that our bodies did not take up. I traced his abs while he leaned back and took off his shirt. His pulls me back in my grabbing my ass, creating a slight sound from me.
