Abigail Higgins ||Grown Ups||

Chapter One

A/N: So, I wrote this story about 5 years ago, so it's not exactly my best work. Although, I have done some extensive editing since then. I'm really happy with how part two turned out though, as well. So, you just have to bear with me, haha. Without further ado, I introduce you to my very first OC: Abby!

I ran up to my front door, my feet pounding against the cement. The only thing on my mind was food. Delicious food. I struggled with the door knob in my haste, getting a tad aggravated. It quickly evaporated, though, as I got it open in seconds, “Dad! I’m home!”

I bolted into the living room and ripped off my light blue book bag, tossing it onto the couch. I turned to the kitchen. I could feel my mouth starting to water as I thought of what I could eat. I glanced at my dad, noticing him sitting at our small island countertop. I almost didn’t think anything of it, but then I noticed his face. His eyes were drooped downward and had a slight tinge of red to them. His face was a bit puffy. It looked like he’d been crying.

I could feel my heart begin to race as my brain started to run through all the possible reasons he could be crying. I stepped forward cautiously, “Dad?” I said softly. I hope it’s not about my mom.

He lifted his gaze to me, as if just seeing me for the first time. He cleared his throat, “Oh, hey, baby. Uh....remember when I told you about my old basketball team and,” His voice cracked, “Coach Buzzer?”

I was a tad confused for a second, but then I realized something must have happened. “Yeah.” I answered.

He nodded, looking away. “I just got word today that Coach Buzzer died. The, uh, funeral is this Thursday.” He looked down.

I stood there, not sure what to do. “Oh.” The thing is, my dad and I aren’t very close. Don’t get me wrong, we love each other. A lot. But he didn’t even know I existed until I was 7 and a couple years later, he got sole custody of me. “I’m sorry, dad.”

My mom, Rose, had dated my dad when they were younger. They split and when she found out she was pregnant with me, she was too stubborn to tell him. Until she got too annoyed with me asking about him all the time. Still, my dad and I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with each other because I was always going from home to home with my mom. She had a drug problem. She overdosed when I was six, nine, and again when I was ten. That’s when I went to live with him. So, I’ve been here.

When I saw him crying, I was so scared because I thought it was about my mom. I hadn’t heard from her in over three months.  I was honestly relieved when it wasn’t her but now, as I slowly walked to my room, leaving my father to sit at the counter, I felt guilty for thinking something so horrible.

¤     ¤     ¤     ¤

Thursday morning was a long one. 

We had to get up early. We got dressed, showered, and drove to the Church all in silence. It wasn’t really a sad silence. I guess we just didn’t know what to say to each other. There were a lot of cars already sitting in the parking lot and some, even, on the side of the road. My dad had begun to smile as we walked up to a group of people standing around each other.

I saw one man with short, dark hair yell, “No cell phones!” To who I’m assuming is his son, who had the same dark hair as his father, but it was slightly longer and more curly.

I was somewhat startled when my father spoke up in a loud voice from next to me, “Wait, no cell phones? Then I’m outta here!” The group turned to look at us as we reached them. I stopped slightly behind my father.

"Higgy!” The dark haired man shouted with his arms extended.

My dad smiled and began dancing while pointing to himself, “Who’s ready to get their funeral on?” He spoke in a sing song voice. I instantly started to feel embarrassed while my cheeks began to warm. My dad must have felt embarrassed, too, because he amended, “I’m sorry death makes me weird.” He walked closer to the group. I stayed in my spot.