twenty two

                                    

                                          
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Edit on the side made by @stephhmal :)
Songs for this chapter:
Collide (Acoustic) - Howie Day
Irresistable - One Direction
Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

Cleo's POV:
Without another word, my dad turns and walks down the stairs, leaving me to my nerves. I find it hard to even breathe, my lungs struggling to push out the breath I'm holding and replace it with fresh oxygen. My head is spinning. I can't believe we're about to have this conversation. He knows and I'm not sure how to approach this situation. I'm not sure if I should go for the 'I'm almost an adult' angle or the 'we're being safe' angle. Or if I should just cry and beg him to forgive me for my sins.
A few more seconds pass before I muster up the courage to head downstairs. My feet hit the wood floor in the entry way and panic swells in my chest. I see my dad sitting at the kitchen table in my peripherals and head that way. You can do it I tell myself, knowing that this little pep talk will probably be of little to no help. My hands are already shaking. Maybe I could fake a heart attack and get out of this conversation all together.
When I take a seat across the table from my dad, I see that he's made breakfast. A plate filled with pancakes, eggs, and bacon and a cup filled with steaming hot coffee lie before me. Oh shit, how long has he been home? Because we weren't exactly being quiet...
I clear my throat and lift the fork, digging into my eggs, "Thanks for breakfast." My tone is anything but casual and the fork clinks against the plate due to my trembling fingers. I set the fork down and pick up a piece of bacon instead, hoping my uneasy movements have gone unnoticed. My dad refuses to make eye contact with me, focusing instead on pouring the perfect amount of syrup on top of his pancakes. I'd say he's just as, if not more, nervous about this talk than I am.
"There's uh... something I wanted to talk to you about," he starts.
I mumble an 'mhmm' before bringing the cup of coffee to my lips and taking a big gulp. It's searing hot and burns my tongue, but I continue to drink it. My father is a patient man, he always has been. If this conversation were reversed, he would give me as much time as I needed to say what was on my mind. I, on the other hand, got my mother's patience - or lack thereof. It only takes a few seconds for my dad's prolonged silence to become annoying. My left foot begins to bounce against the floor, picking up speed the longer my dad just sits there with his lips pressed in a line, staring at his plate.
He finally sucks in a deep breath and speaks, "So, about the woman you saw me with last week..."
Oh.
"Yeah?" I press, setting down my cup of coffee and taking a big bite of pancakes. If he expects me to sit here and guess what's going on or ask a ton of questions, he's wrong. He will either supply the information willingly or we won't be having this conversation. He's been keeping something from me, and I'm not going to let him off easy.
My dad looks panicked for a second, like he didn't expect to actually get this far into the conversation. Whether he thought I would shoot the topic down, I don't know, but he definitely doesn't seem ready to actually tell me about this woman. "Her name's Elliot." That information alone makes my stomach twist; putting a name to the face makes her real, makes this real.
"We've been seeing each other for two months now."
"Seeing each other." I repeat the words, letting them sit on my tongue, trying to decide how they taste. They taste foreign as hell, that's for sure. My father has been 'seeing' someone, someone who's not my mother. Although they haven't been together for years now, it's still a strange concept. To my knowledge, he hasn't dated anyone since the divorce, but who knows.