Ok, so in case anyone is wondering, this is Brooklynn's Jeep.

And this is her Dad's car, which will be mentioned later on in this chapter.

Ok, that's it for me! Enjoy the chapter!

•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•

The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted me as I stepped into the Corner Café for my afternoon shift.

"Hey Tom," I called in greeting as I walked behind the counter to the workroom to put my phone and bag down and grab my apron to start my shift.

Tom was taking a customer's order from the drive through when I stepped out to man the counter.

The Corner Café was the central hub of our town. There was almost always teens in line to get their caffeine fix, and it was a popular study place. A lot of young people had also worked there over the years, making it a cultural site as well.

The owner, Tom Wilson, was an elderly man with a full grey beard and a big jovial laugh that was so infectious that you couldn't help but laugh along with him. He was like a grandpa for everyone. And he knew everyone by name, so when they walked in, he would greet them personally.

He was also the most generous person you will ever meet. Once he found out about my home situation, he raised my wages so that I would be able to afford the monthly car and phone payments, since my deadbeat dad wasn't going to be pitching in anytime soon.

"How are you doing?" Tom's deep voice said as he handed the customer their drink.

"I'm doing alright," I said with a shrug. "Well, as good as I can given the circumstances."

Tom nodded, but didn't say anything else. That's the thing I loved about him. He would never push you to talk about stuff you didn't want to talk about.

The bell chimed above the door, signaling another customer. I stepped over the register so that I would be ready to take their order.

"Hi, welcome to the Corner Café. What can I get for you tod-" The last part was because I finally looked up at the customer before me, and who I saw made my gut clench.

My dad stood before me, looking at me with a cold expression. I tried to finish my sentence, but my words caught in my throat.

Thankfully, Tom noticed and motioned for me to wipe down the counters while he took my dad's order.

I gratefully stepped away, though I could still feel my dad's gaze burning into my back.

"Sorry about that, sir. What can I get for you today?" Tom said.

"My daughter." My dad growled. "I need her to come home now."

My grip tightened on the rag. I'm pretty sure the color drained from my face as well.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can let her go. I need her here during rush hour," I heard Tom reply.

"No!" My dad yelled, slamming his hand down on the counter. "I am her father, and I make the rules!"

I turned to see my dad glaring at Tom murderously. The other customers in the café looked shocked at my fathers outburst.

"Well, she's also my employee. And I need her to help me here," Tom said calmly.

For about five seconds, my father seethed. It looked like a vein was about to pop in his forehead. He wasn't normally this mad. He must've been really drunk.

"Fine," my dad growled then stalked out of the café.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. The customers turned back to whatever they were doing, seemingly forgetting about the whole episode.

Tom turned to me with a concerned expression painting his face.

"Are you sure you should go home tonight?" He asked in a worried tone.

I was asking myself the same question. But I knew if I didn't, it would only make matters worse.

"You know I have to," I replied. Tom nodded in understanding.

The bell rang again, and this time I flinched. I hated it when I did that.

I looked over to see who had just come in.

Asher stood in front of the register, scanning the menu.

I breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful that my dad hadn't come back. I nodded to Tom, letting him know that I was ok, and I could take Asher's order.

"Hi, welcome to the Corner Café. What can I get for you today?" I asked as I stepped up to the register.

"Man, you look like you've seen a ghost. You ok?" Asher said with a concerned look in his eye.

"Yeah, I'm fine." No I wasn't. I was terrified about going home. But who doesn't say they're fine when someone asks? "Anyway, what can I get for you today?"

"Um, what is your favorite? I don't know what to get," Asher said as he pulled out his wallet.

"Hm. I'd have to go with the S'mores Frappe, or the Dark Cherry Milkshake."

He nodded. "Then I'll get both."

"Ok, what size?" I gestured to the cups lining the register.

"Both large," Asher said as he handed me the money to pay for the drinks.

I typed in his order, then printed the labels and stuck them on the cups. I handed him his change and the receipt, then turned to start making the two drinks.

As I mixed the drinks, I could hear Tom talking to Asher, asking him questions, like when he got here, how he was enjoying our town, etc.

"Alright," I said as I put the lids on and handed the cups to Asher. "There you go."

I turned to clean up the blenders I had just used, when Asher spoke.

"I actually got one of these for you. I was hoping you would sit with me so we can talk and get to know each other."

I froze. My face felt like it was on fire, quite the contrast to what it was when my dad was here earlier.

"Um, thanks for the invitation, but I have stu-" I started to say before I was cut off.

"She'd love to!" Tom said with a twinkle in his eye.

Excuse me, what?! I stared at Tom incredulously. Why would he do that?

"Go on, I can manage," he said, shooing me out from behind the counter.

I grudgingly followed Asher to a table where he sat down and handed me the S'mores frappe.

"I take it that's your top favorite, seeing as how you mentioned it first."

I nodded and took a deep sip of the chocolaty, marshmellowy goodness.

Asher took a sip of his milkshake, and his eyes widened.

"Holy crap, this stuff is good!" He said, breaking into a massive smile.

I couldn't help but smile a little at his reaction. I had a similar reaction the first time Tom gave me one of them.

"Ok, so I never fully understood how you ended up with a bunch of goons for friends," Asher said, taking another sip of his milkshake.

"What is there not to understand? Like I told you before, we knew each other from school, and for some reason they made it their mission to make my life miserable until I hung out with them. And by miserable, they wouldn't stop asking me to do stuff with them," I replied, squirming in my seat. I caught Tom's eye and glared at him. He only chuckled and shrugged, like what can I do?

"Hm. Favorite ice cream flavor." Asher said after a moment.

"Mint chocolate chip," I replied without hesitating.

"Favorite food?"

"California sushi rolls."

"Cats or dogs?"

"Dogs."

"Which dog breed is your favorite?"

"Hm, that's a tough one. I like German Shepherds, Boxers, Collies, St. Bernards, Pit Bulls, Golden Retrievers, and Labs," I replied, listing them off on my fingers.

Asher whistled appreciatively. "That's an impressive list."

"Oh and huskies! I love huskies!" I said with a grin. Asher chuckled and shook his head.

We continued asking dumb questions like that, until Asher hit a touchy subject.

"So what do your parents do for a living?" He asked, finishing his milkshake.

I flinched at the mention of my dad.

"Um, my dad is a construction manager," I forced out. I could tell that Asher noticed the change. I bet the whole shop could see how tense I was.

"Ok, touchy subject. I get it, my dad is too," he said darkly. That caught me by surprise. I don't know why, but I just assumed his family life was fine.

"What about your mom?" He said, in an effort to change the subject, unknowingly making it worse.

I thought I was over it. I thought I had gotten past it. But evidently I hadn't. Tears stung my eyes as I though of my mom, once so happy and full of life. But now she was gone, yanked away in the blink of an eye.

I shut my eyes in an effort to control my emotions. But it didn't help. I could see her, memories dancing across my vision. That one time in fifth grade when I fell out of a tree and broke my arm. Or when I stole her makeup because I wanted to "be pretty like her."

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping across the wooden floor.

"I'm sorry, thanks for the drink, but I have to go." I said as I wiped my eyes to no avail. I could make out Asher's concerned face, no doubt wondering what was wrong with me. I ran to the work room to retrieve my stuff, then tore out of the shop before I could break down in front of everyone.

I ran to my Jeep, opened the door, and pulled myself into the driver seat.

I held onto the steering wheel as my body shook with sobs. Why did she have to leave me? Why couldn't it have been me that had gotten hit? At this point it probably would've been better.

A small tapping at my window startled me. I looked over to see Tom standing next to my car.

"I think you might need this," he said as I opened the door. He handed me a hot chocolate and a glazed doughnut. My comfort foods.

I wiped my face, which no doubt looked hideous.

"Thanks, Tom," I said, accepting the food.

He nodded, and then turned to go back in the shop. I set my doughnut in the passenger seat, and took a sip of the hot chocolate.

Perfection. It was the Swiss Miss packet kind, not some of the other hot chocolate I had tried at other coffee shops. Tom kept a box of it in the staff room for moments like these.

I set the drink in the cup holder, then turned on the car.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, I glanced at the time. 5:30 pm. It was close to the end of my shift anyway. But also, my dad would be at the bar, and would be there for at least another couple hours.

I stopped at the grocery store to grab a few items for dinner on the way home, and also ran into the craft store to get a leather cord for my necklace.

Once I got home, my dad's black '78 Camaro was gone. I cheered mentally, parked my car, then headed inside.

Once inside I headed to my room to drop off my keys and bag, then went to the kitchen to make dinner.

My mind went on auto pilot as I poured water in a pot to make spaghetti. I kept looking out the window to make sure my dad didn't come home while I was still making food. Some of you may call me paranoid, but trust me. It is not a pretty scene.

Once the noodles were done and I had strained them, I mixed in the sauce, then set a few meat balls to heat in the toaster oven.

I went back to my room, and pulled out the leather cord I had gotten at the craft store. I strung the charm and ring on it, then tied it around my neck. I immediately felt calmer, knowing that I had it on. It may not seem like much, but it's seriously sentimental to me. It's a reminder that I matter, that I am priceless.

As I sat there, playing with the new cord, I heard the toaster oven ding. I heaved myself off my bed with a sigh, and headed back to the kitchen again.

Just as I set a plate of spaghetti on the table, I heard my dad's Camaro roar into the drive way. I quickly scooped some spaghetti onto my plate and scuttled back to my room just as my dad walked in the door.

I could hear him muttering to himself as he staggered drunkenly around the kitchen. I winced when the sound of clinking bottles reached my room.

I pulled out my homework, set up at my desk, and started going through my assignments, periodically taking bites of my spaghetti.

When I completed my homework and returned my assignments to my backpack, I tossed myself onto my bed with a satisfying fwoomp.

I reached over to my nightstand to grab my charger to plug in my phone, then heaved my self back off the bed so I could get ready to go to sleep.

I went to the bathroom first, took a quick shower, then brushed my teeth.

When I got to my room, I threw on my pjs, then crawled under my covers and grabbed my phone.

I scrolled through my Instagram for a while before feeling my eyes droop. I set my phone on the nightstand, then wiggled my necklace off and hung it on the silver antlers that my mom had given me for a birthday a few years ago.

As I fell asleep, I listened to the sound of my dad swearing incoherently and stumbling around the house. Eventually, the noise stopped. I guess he stumbled into his room and passed out.

"Goodnight, mom," I whispered to the picture on my nightstand as I slipped into a dreamless sleep.

•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•

Hey guys! It's your girl, ItsMyKale!

So this chapter is a bit of a longer one, which honestly surprised the crap out of me. I write my chapters on OneNote then post them on Wattpad, and I can't see a word count on OneNote like I can on Wattpad. This chapter is practically double what I normally write.

Anyways, enough with the annoying talk.

Vote! Comment! Share!

But most importantly, see y'all in the next chapter!