The Sword and the Scythe

Chapter 4: If I Died Today

Six Years Ago

Holly's fourth alarm went off and she dragged herself out of bed. She stumbled down the stairs to start the coffee. Before going back upstairs, she threw some bacon in the oven. Knocking on her dad's door until she heard a grumbled "I'm up," she skidded down the hall to get ready for school. After rushing through applying her usual light makeup consisting of a thin line of eyeliner and some mascara, she threw on jeans and a cute top with her converse.

Once she was ready, she flipped the bacon and started the eggs. Just as she was plating breakfast and pulling out the toast, her dad came downstairs, setting the tiny notebook he carried everywhere down on the table. She poured him some coffee and handed him his breakfast.

"How did I get lucky enough to have such a great daughter?" He said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"By working too much," she said, giving him a sideways glance that meant she was teasing him—but only a little. "And you're still nowhere near finding that dumb thing."

"I was so close to finding it."

Holly rolled her eyes. "You've been saying that for years." She paused and then turned back around to look at him. "Wait—you were close to finding it?"

He took a bite of his bacon and said, "I think it's about time that I found a new hobby."

"Dad, don't make promises you can't keep. You'll get bored without a special project to obsess over and you'd try to find the Holy Grail or something else equally fictional and stupid."

He smiled a guilty smile, the corners of his eyes twinkled as if he were a much younger man. "Who knows? I might be able to change. I'm beginning to think you're right about my working too much."

She rolled her eyes, unconvinced, and got up and took her plate to the sink. "I've got to go. You'll be okay on your own for dinner? I've got a date."

He raised his eyebrows. "You have a what? With whom?"

"Sebastian Sinclair. He's picking me up at seven."

"That spoiled rich kid? Why would you want to go out with a guy like that?"

"He's popular and he likes me."

"Anybody would be lucky to go out with you—don't settle."

She rolled her eyes. "You're my dad—you have to say that."

"Do you even like the boy?"

"He is a little annoying, but he's always complimenting me. What can it hurt to go out with him?"

"Holly, you don't owe him anything just because he pays attention to you. You should only go out with someone you have real feelings for—someone you have chemistry with."

"How would I even know if I have chemistry with someone?"

"You'll just know. You'll get butterflies when you talk to them, or they'll make your knees weak when they smile at you. And you'll make them feel the same way. There'll be passion. Does Sebastian make you feel any of those things?"

"Well, no. But how much does that really matter?"

"It's important. It's not the most important thing in a relationship, but it helps tell you how you feel about a person. You need trust, too, of course, and honesty," he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck like this conversation was stressing him out. "You should be comfortable enough to not need to fill every silent moment. And above all, you should be head over heels in love with them. But for the love of God, pick someone who has their shit put together enough to be emotionally available—not that I would know anything about that."