Chapter 34

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

Brian wasn't technically my first kiss.

My real first kiss was in fifth grade so I was probably around ten years old. I remember it being a Wednesday because we had just had P.E. and it was a short day. Nico and I were walking home from school. This was in the prime of my crush on him.

There was a small shortcut from our school to the house. It was just a single road surrounded by trees and a lot of squirrels would run around. We were walking in the shortcut when he grabbed my hand. I held onto it back.

We were about to exit the shortcut when he just leaned forward, kissed me, and ran home.

It was less than a second, barely a peck. But I was in fifth grade and I had a crush on him, so it meant everything to me.

I guess he still remembers too.

---

To his credit, my dad gives Nico a couple days to move out. I appreciate it because it gives him more time to prepare before seeing his dad but part of me really wishes he would've just left earlier so I wouldn't have to be in this excruciating situation right now.

It's dead silent as the three of us eat our fried chicken dinner. Actually, dead silent would be better than this. This is awkward silent. The kind where you know everyone is thinking of something to say but no one can come up with anything good.

Nico isn't one to be awkward, ever, but it probably doesn't help that he's been living here against my dad's will.

"Thank you for having me for dinner," Nico says, looking to my dad.

My dad sits at the head of the table, back straight. He clears his throat and forces a smile. "No problem."

"And thank you for letting me stay here. Even though you didn't really... know. I promise I'll pay you back for everyone I've used and my time here," Nico says.

"Don't worry about it," my dad brushes it off. "The house looks to be in good enough shape."

"Thank you, Mr. Cho," Nico replies. "That biking gear in the garage... Is that yours?"

My dad brightens up a bit. There's few things that my dad loves with a passion in life and bikes are one of them. All he does when he's home is watching videos of guys biking on the internet. When I was young, I used to look over his shoulder and try to see what he was watching. It just looked like a trail to me.

"It is," my dad says. "You bike?"

"I've been to a couple trails down in Santa Cruz. They're pretty nice," Nico says, clearly relieved that conversation is being made.

"Santa Cruz has some great trails," my dad agrees heavily. "I've been going down in the mornings before there's any traffic and it's never too busy."

Besides biking, something else my dad likes is empty roads. I guess I inherited my dislike of people from him.

"I'd love to check those trails out sometime," Nico says as if they're already best friends. I'm slowly shrinking more and more into the background of the conversation as they start discussing different types of bikes.

I mean, how many types of bikes can there be? They all have two wheels. What more do you need?

I'm zoning out, picking at my chicken, when I hear, "I remember when she was young, I tried to teach Jennie how to ride a bicycle. She had to use training wheels back then and the second she got on, boom, she fell over!" My dad recounts this story and Nico genuinely laughs as if it's the greatest thing ever.

No one laughs at my dad's stories. They must be soulmates.

"She got right back up, though," my dad continues, looking over at me. "I went inside to take a phone call and when I came out, she had taught herself how to ride and was ringing that little bell of hers as she sped down the street." His voice is reminiscent. "Her mom filmed her biking back then and we used to watch those tapes for hours, convinced our daughter was the next Lance Armstrong. I wonder where those tapes are..."

I can tell that he's forgotten that Nico is even here but he quickly snaps out of it, clearing his throat and returning to silence.

My mom used to film everything and, before she passed, just watch the tapes for hours and hours. My dad and I would get annoyed with her because she would make us pose for pictures and quite literally film everything but when she was in the hospital, she would say, "See. Aren't you glad I filmed all those memories?"

"I think they're in the safe," I say. Actually, I know they are because I put them there after she died and haven't touched them since.

My dad nods. "That's good."

Beneath the table, I feel Nico's hand squeeze mine in assurance. I give him a grateful smile in return.

"So, how's school? What's this I'm hearing about a cheating boyfriend and a fight...?" my dad asks.

"It's over now. Both situations," I say.

"You fought someone?" my dad asks disapprovingly. "Over what? Are you okay?"

So I do my duty to the universe by being honest and this is what I get in return?

"I'm fine, dad. This girl just wanted to fight me so I fought back a little bit." I stab my chicken and shove a bite into my mouth.

"You know how to fight?"

"Not really but I'm stronger than I look," I say Nico's lips lift at this. "I didn't start it, dad. I promise."

He shakes his head, not in disapproval but in shock. "I can't believe you high schoolers are fighting. Did you... did you win?"

"It was a tie," I say and he sort-of grimaces. "I would've won if he didn't drag me out!" I exclaim, motioning to Nico.

Nico shrugs. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cho. I just think fighting is irresponsible and I wanted to make sure Jennie was safe," he says in the most angelic tone.

Wowwwwww.

"I appreciate that," my dad responds. "Fighting is never the answer, Jennie."

I roll my eyes. "I'm done eating. You guys enjoy making your friendship bracelets. When you're done eating, make sure you put the leftover food in the compost and not just the trash, got it?"

My dad turns to Nico. "She's always so bossy."

I'm about to leave the room but my ears are straining to catch him say, "It's a privilege to be bossed around by your daughter, Mr. Cho."

A/N: Happy Holidays loves :) leave a vote/comment if ur feeling merry hehe

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net