The Boy Next Door Owes Me Oreos.

The Boy Next Door Owes Me Oreos (31)

Hey so, hopefully you guys read the last post where I mentioned I'm doing a contest.
It's a banner/cover contest. Who ever makes the most creative, best quality banner will win. (:
At the moment I'm thinking obviously dedication of the chapter (which would be the ending one where everything happens), I would promote any story that the winner water, if it be their own or a friend (because I don't do that ever, and I have a pretty large fan base so maybe it would be of help?) AND the ultimate decision. The winner of the banner contest will tell me their favorite Oreo of all time, double stuffed, mint, golden, inside out? Any kind and it will be apart of something super, super important, yet super secretive as of right now because I don't want to ruin anything (: So read the part, and then I shall give you more information at the bottom. Also, as I say down below-- the winner will be told why the oreo type is important, and where it fits in the story and why. A little sneak peak before anyone else knows =) yeaah

The next morning my brain felt foggy, and my muscles were so tense that I almost cried from the hot water beating down on me from the shower. I was up bright and early on a Saturday morning, thankfully not for soccer practice because that wasn't starting one this afternoon, but to go pick of Devon who took a early bird flight to save money. She was convinced my Mom was going to take her to a tattoo parlor to get her belly button pierced pretending to be her Mom, so she was trying to save all the money possible. Devon also wanted me to pull an all niter with her, because it would be so impossible for her to sleep on the plane, but going all night without sleep wasn't an option so when I finally checked my phone it was full of texts from her claiming what a horrible friend I was but every one ended with a smiley face.

Even though compared to any day of the week, sleeping till six was considered sleeping in, Saturdays were my days to recuperate, so seeing the sun peaking over Chase's house was not comforting at all. I also felt a pang of anger when I saw Chase all bright eyed and bushy tailed walking down his white concrete driveway putting the trash away.

“Howdy neighbor!” My Dad shouted across the street with a friendly wave, to my great displeasure and Chase smiled.

“Hey!” Chase yelled back, “at least try too look alive Sylvia!” He shot at me, and I yanked the door open to my Dad's Jaguar without a word and threw myself in. I regretted it a second later as my body screamed. Of course my Dad would have to spark conversation with the only person actually alive at this time, my Mom was still tucked away in bed and would probably not leave it until at least nine thirty. That's the way I am too, but my Dad was an early bird... and apparently so is Chase.

As my Dad opened the driver side door, he was biding Chase a goodbye, and Chase was walking back up his driveway to his garage on firm feet. He had to be hurting... Coach road us hard last night, he had to feel it. Especially considering that we practice more than everyone else. “He's a good kid, I like him.” I made a face at my Dads statement but tried my best to hide it. I didn't need to get in the story of why I hated Chase so much with my Father. Chase didn't deserve to die just yet, and if I told my Dad he would reverse this expensive automobile straight across the street into Chase's garage door and go find him. Honestly, I could see it happening.

“Yeah.” I mumbled, burrowing into the leather seat wishing I had thought ahead enough to bring a blanket so I could sleep in the car comfortably. My sweatshirt was enough thought, and my iPod. The Canvas Waiting was coming in through my headphones softly, and it was just then that I realized how much I really missed it. I had to wait a long time to ask for it back because if I did too soon Chase would have made fun of me, I just know he would have.

“Isn't he on the soccer team with you? I feel like your Mom mentioned that to me.” Dad smiled briefly at me before driving off the street and in the general direction of the airport. I had no idea where it was, and because my Dad was just as new here as I was the only place he really knew how to get to was the hospital which wasn't too far away from our house. But from the hospital, the airport was an hour away.

“Yeah Dad, he's the captain.” I pulled the ray bans off the top of my head and adjusted them on my face, glad for the little protection they gave my eyes from the rising son. I wasn't awake enough to hold conversations with anyone, especially not my Father. He loved me, and I know that but we haven't ever really been close. He wasn't your typical Dad, who took you fishing on the weekends or brought you to the movies. He was never really home, but when he was home my parents were smiling and everything was wonderful. It was normal for him not to be around, and we were happy. My Dad liked his job, he had to because if he didn't he wouldn't spend all his time there, he wouldn't of brought us to Florida. It was just hard to hold a conversation with him because I don't really know all that much about him, even being seventeen. What I did know he held an interest in, which was anything medical, I had no interest in so... talking to him about his patients wasn't fun and probably illegal somehow.

“Captain huh... and he's our neighbor? You don't have a relationship with him do you- because-” My Dad began, but I immediately cut him off.

“No, Dad. Ew.” I said hard, letting my long wavy hair fall around my shoulders.

“Well I'm not saying I wouldn't approve. You can tell me anything you know... I just wouldn't like the close proximity-”

“Dad. I'm not dating Chase!” I insisted, wanting to tell him how much I hated the fact we were neighbors. I also wanted to tell him how he's already showed up outside my window at night but decided against it, once again envisioning my Dad driving his Jag through the garage door.

“Okay, okay. I was just wondering. We never talk so it's not like I would know.” Of course he would pluck the heart stings. My Dad had this thing about him, where he could play anyone like a fiddle. It didn't matter if you were a stranger, or his Mother, he knew exactly what to say to make you want to talk to him, even when you really didn't.

“You work all the time, Dad.” I said simply, hoping he would just drop the subject. This was always the thing we talking about. How much he worked, and how because of it we didn't really have a relationship. “It's okay though, I understand why. I always have.” I smiled at him, flexing in my baggy gray Plymouth State University sweatshirt.

“Yup, you always have kiddo.” He returned my smile, his teeth impossibly white. The Florida sun has done him good, that much was obvious by the tint of his skin. I wished I looked like that.

The one problem my Dad mostly had was even though he knew how to make people want to talk to him... he couldn't really hold a conversation and after awhile of trying to spark something and just being answered with 'yeah,' and 'oh', I remembered why we never really talked to begin with and why it was always my Mom who told him what was going on in my life. I turned my iPod up.

His leather seats were more comfortable than I thought, and soon I was dousing in and out. My sunglasses, hair and hoodie provided enough protection from the sun and the next time I opened my eyes my Dad was frustrated.

“Can you call Devon and tell her to get a cab and meet us at the McDonalds at the corner of Providence and 1-95?” My Dad said, giving up from trying to find the biggest airport in Tampa. I pulled out my phone and only after two rings Devon answered it.

“Hey.” She breathed into the phone, and I could tell she was nervous that we might have forgotten. “Where are you guys?”

“Dad can't find the airport.” I explained and she broke out into laughter.

“This place is huge... how can he not find it?”

“I don't know, but don't hate. I can't find it either... can you grab a taxi and go to the McDonalds at Providence and 1-95.” I could hear the skepticism already. “My Dad will pay the fair I know what you're planning.”

“Deal.” The smile evident in the tone of her voice and she clicked off without another word.

My Dad pulled into the McDonalds, and to reclaim his manliness he ate a Big Mac before it was even eight o'clock. “Impressive.” I smirked, stating sarcastically.

“I was hungry, your Mom hasn't fed me!” He whined and I rolled my eyes waiting for Devon to show up.