"Alistair glared at the unrestrained teenager as she walked around the front of the shop and called out after her. "Leave me aloon," he told her. "Yer...just being nasty again."Abigail snorted and opened the door. "Ah'm being nice. But Ah-be nasty if ya wan't." Yar a bitch," he cried.She snorted and slammed the shop door as she left. "Can'ya believe 'im?"Lisa shrugged. "He 'ates us," she mused. "But we did mess with him."Abigail hummed. "Well until he can be nice I'll make him spunk as often as I. " "Of course." I walked into an empty room and closed the door. I was going to cry. I was homesick and I hated it. I should have just stayed in the house. In my room. I gathered my gear and got it ready. *knock knock knock* "Yes?" I heard the door open. "Youre acting like a child." "And you don’t listen." "Get in bed. You need rest." "I need to get going." I grabbed my gear and tried to get up. I was thrown onto the bed. "I said sleep damnit." I scowled at her and hid in the covers. I felt her. For a few days, until I got the trailer stocked and everything moved into it, it was parked in the carport. She brought hot cocoa packets and a carton of milk. The first thing I’d moved into the trailer was my coffee mugs.“So, Dad,” she began. She was using her most mature voice—the voice of reason. “What’s your goal? Are you out to discover yourself? Do you have a quest to see all the states? The National Parks? Old girlfriends?” We laughed. I pulled a bottle of crème de menthe out of the. While (as usual girls never initiate talk) she was busy reading a stupid news-paper, I observed that she was at the cartoon section. (although with sweaty palms) I did not waste too much time in telling her: Me: Here (with a magazine in my hand). Read this.Her: Excuse me?Me: (A little loudly) This book. Its much more interesting thanthe news-paper. (and I handed it over to her)It was a magazine with a lot of humorous articles and jokes etc. She was a little perturbed, but she really like it. I.
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