Chapter 0174

I didn't know I was hungry.

"I made you a grill cheese sandwich. It's burnt-" my dad said, raking his fingers through his hair sheepishly until he froze when his eyes dropped on me. More specifically, my tears.

"You're crying." His voice pitched with a bit of panic.

I was sure that he didn't have a clue about comforting a teenager. I wouldn't hold it against him. I sat up, smiled at him a little. "It's okay. Just remembering mom."

His face twisted with sorrow and he looked away from me and set his gaze on the floor. "Oh."

See, he had no clue about how to comfort a teenager who's mourning.

Poor guy, he had a lot to learn.

"I'd love that grill cheese sandwich." I uttered, trying to save my father from awkwardly looking at the floor. He pass it over to me, a sad gleam in his eyes. "Everything will be okay."

Basic words.

I nod.

Not able to be in that awkward silence any longer, my father looked for a way out.

"Well, I have some work to do..." He pointed at the door, backing away slowly. I refrained from rolling my eyes but nod instead. Before he stepped out of the room, I stopped him.

"Hey Giovanni." My father froze midway, his back was stiff and he didn't turn around to face me. Did he not like that I called him by his given name? I couldn't bring myself to call him dad just yet. We haven't reached that stage yet.

"Yes Melia?" He looked at her over his shoulder this time.

"Are there wolves here? I could've sworn I saw one a while ago." My brows furrowed, trying to recall the huge brown wolf I saw. If it was possible, he stiffened even more. Seconds tick by, silence enveloping us, until he responded.

"There are no wolves around here."

Even though they only just met officially a few hours ago, I could tell by the slight pitch in his voice, that he was lying.

* Next morning *

The buzzing won't stop.

I outstretched my hands, blindly looking for that clock so I can hit that snooze button.

I ended up just flinging the clock to the wall, groaned and curled myself more into my covers.

A second later, my door slams open.

"Did something happen, I heard a crash."

I peeled my eyes open sleepily to see my father standing in his pajamas, a hand up holding a frying pan as he looked around frantically.

That was not the sight I thought I'd see so early in the morning. I didn't know if to laugh, or be concerned that he brought a frying pan as a weapon.

"Clock. Throw. Wall. Crash." I grumbled still half asleep.

The tight worried lines on his forehead visibly disappear and are replaced with a sheepish embarrassed smile.

"Oh." He chuckles sheepishly.

He lifted his hand in his hair. "Thought it was something else. Anyway you should probably get up. Today's your first day and you'd not want to be late."

I nod, reluctantly peeling the covers off my body. If I had the choice, I would sleep in.

It had only been five days since I've been here. Five days seemed long, but they felt short. All I really did was get my room ready, eat, shit and did what normal human beings did on the regular.

Giovanni tried to bring me out, to show me around Willow Creek. But I declined every single time. I wasn't ready yet to see the town I'd be staying in for a while.

Things were too new, too fresh.

I'd wish he would wait to send me to school too, but he thought it would be best to not skip on my education for longer.

"Nice frying pan." I told him the moment my bare feet touch those cold wooden flooring. They creaked under my weight.

I stretched my hands above my head.

Giovanni flushed, and awkwardly swung the frying pan around his finger. "Oh that-

Pang.

He winces when the edge of the frying pan hit him on his forehead.

I throw my hand over my mouth. "Ooph." I giggled.

His eyes narrowed. "Haha, very funny. Get down to eat your breakfast young lady. I'm going to pack you your lunch."

I smiled at his disappearing back softly. At least he was trying.

-

The eggs had a couple of eggshells in them, and I tried to not wince every time my teeth crunched them, but it was getting hard not to.

"How are the eggs?" Giovanni questioned, lifting his head to peer at me.

He was busy throwing a good amount of peanut butter on one slice of bread. It was messy. And I suspected it was my 'lunch'.