Fourteen by C.M. Smith (english novels to read .txt) 📗

“Why are you pushing this so damn hard? Why are you suddenly giving me advice that I don’t want?”

“I’m your dad. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” I snorted, and he rolled his eyes. “I’m trying, Anna.”

“Everyone’s trying, but no one can actually just do what they said they’re going to. No one can just . . . not torture me and hurt me. No, the best I can ever get is trying.”

“It’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

“At this point, no!” I exclaimed, throwing the sponge into the bucket of water as I sat back on my heels. “I’ve settled for the crappy end of the stick my entire life, and the one time I might finally be happy with something I didn’t think I’d ever get, it gets ripped away because he’s an asshole. So no, Dad, I don’t think trying is good enough anymore.”

“I’m sorry that your life has been so terrible for you,” he said dryly, standing and brushing his hands on his jeans. “Let me know when you need me to sign the loan papers for your school, all right? Maybe I can do that right, huh?”

I screamed in frustration and hopped up from the floor, ripping my ear buds out of my ears and yanking my iPod from my pocket. I threw it haphazardly onto the table by the door and ran up the stairs, scrubbing my eyes as I made it into my bedroom. I grabbed the disc still sitting on my computer desk and slapped it back into the case before I ran back down the stairs, swallowing the hiccups and tears that were building in my throat.

“Where are you going?” my dad demanded.

“I’m going to talk to him, Dad!” I yelled, hating the way my voice was shaking. “Since you seem to think he’s the second coming of Christ and all!”

“Very funny, Anna.”

I pulled open the door and stalked out onto the porch as Evan scrambled up from his seated position on the driveway in front of his car. I sniffled against my better judgment as I made my way down the steps and stopped at the bottom. The anger I’d felt a second ago disappeared and was replaced with defeat and acceptance.

“Anna, listen to me—”

“I have absolutely no desire to hear anything you have to say,” I interrupted, walking down the steps to meet him. “I don’t care what you want because it no longer matters to me.”

“You’re not—”

“I don’t care anymore, Evan. You’ve made your point, and your social experiment is over.”

“Anna, it’s not like that!” he exclaimed. “That wasn’t me!”

“Yes, it was.” I laughed sarcastically. “Unless you have a long-lost twin brother, I’m pretty positive that was you.”

“Please, let me explain!”

“No.” I placed the case against his chest and nearly flinched when he trapped my hand with his. “We’re stuck together for human physiology, but I’m done with you when it comes to everything else.”

“You’re not giving me a chance.”

“I gave you a chance, and this is what I got for it. I’m done. Get off my property.”

“Anna, please listen to me!”

“Leave me alone.”

I slid my hand out and turned back to the house. I felt a suspicious ache in my chest as I climbed the stairs.

“I’m sorry!” he yelled. “Anna, I’m sorry!”

“So am I! Now leave.”

I slipped back into the house and sucked in a shaky breath, closing my eyes.

“That’s not quite what I was talking about,” my dad insisted from the kitchen.

“Get off my floor,” I said, opening my eyes and walking back into the kitchen. “I have work to do.”

“Whatever he did,” he said, leaning over and pulling back the lace curtains on the kitchen windows. “He wants to make it right.”

“Shut up, Dad.”

“Just look, Anna.”

“Will you get off my floor then?”

“I’ll even leave the house if you want me to.”

I stalked to his side, yanking the curtain from him and looking out. My face fell as I saw Evan hunched over the steering wheel in his car, his hands clasped tightly on the dashboard in front of him.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said, silently cursing when my voice cracked. “I’m done with him.”

I turned away from the window, pressing my lips together as I sank back to my knees, rolled up my sleeves, and stuck my hand back into the soapy bucket.

“All right,” he finally said, and I heard him walk around me. “Why are there eighteen messages on the machine?”

I didn’t want to think about the messages and voicemails on my cell phone. Fortunately, I didn’t even know where it was or if it was charged.

“I don’t care and don’t you dare listen to them when I’m within hearing distance.”

“You can’t avoid him forever.”

“Why the sudden interest in my life, Dad?” I asked, sitting back on my heels. “Why now?”

“There’s always been an interest, but relationships are something that I can help you with. You should listen to what he has to say.”

“I already know what he’s going to say.”

“You can read minds now? I wasn’t aware.”

I glared at him.

“I thought you said that you’d leave,” I said through my teeth.

He held his hands up at his sides, palms facing me.

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“Mm-hm.” I dropped back to my hands and searched for the sponge in the bucket. “I won’t be going anywhere.”

“If he’s still out there when I get back, I’m inviting him inside.”

I looked up at him through a curtain of hair as I slapped the sponge on the floor with a wet smack.

“You do that,” I said, my voice low.

“I mean it. If you feel anything for him—”

“I feel nothing for him.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t get on your hands and knees to scrub floors, Anna. You use the mop and you do it maybe once a month when you think of it.”

“Well, maybe if you—”

“I’m not complaining!” he exclaimed. “I’m happy that you think of it at all. I’m just pointing out that it’s not something that you do on a regular basis.”

“Why are you pointing it out?”

“Because you say