Dad? Is this some kind of joke that Victoria' playing on me to try and get into my head or something? Because it's not funny.

They responded quickly.

I debated in my head if I should tell my mom. I decided against it. I didn't want to get her riled up for nothing. I guess now it's just a waiting game.

There was a knock at the door. "Lydia?"

"Come in, mom."

"Hey! I just found out I'll have an emergency business trip tomorrow through Sunday. So you'll have the house to yourself."

"Oh okay," I responded. Well, that's convenient.

.

.

.

I was still waiting for my "dad" to prove his identity, but he hadn't texted me since yesterday.

The doorbell suddenly rang and I sighed and walked downstairs. I looked through the peephole and slapped my hand over my mouth. It was him. It was really him. I slowly opened the door

"Hi, Lydia. Is your mom here?"

"No," I deadpanned.

"Can I come in?"

"No."

"Umm, ok then. How have you been?"

"What do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I was a kid and you asked if mom was around, it meant that you wanted something."

"Lydia. I'm sorry for everything. I regret what I did every day. I regret leaving you."

"Do you regret cheating on Mom? Or how about telling a seven-year-old you didn't want her and that she was an accident? Do you regret getting drunk all the time? Or slapping mom after she accused you of cheating even though you were in the wrong?" I forced myself to keep calm.

"I honestly didn't think you'd remember all of that since you were so young."

"Well, I did. Because I'm smart. And I clearly didn't get the gene from you." I tried to close the door, but he pushed it back open. "What do you want!"

"Can you please just let me talk to you? I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry for everything. If I could change it now I would."

"You had eleven years to come back and say that. So why are you saying it now?" He didn't say anything. I tried to close the door on him again but he pushed it back again.

"I need some money." I scoffed and my jaw dropped. "Not a lot. I just need a couple hundred dollars."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"You're very young. I don't think you should be cursing."

"You don't have the right to tell me what you think I should and shouldn't do! You come back for one day and expect me to give you money! You are a pathetic excuse for a human and an even more pathetic excuse for a 'father'. I was stupid to have a glimpse of hope that maybe you were going to be genuine, but you haven't changed a bit."

"Lydia, please. I got wrapped up in some bad stuff. I need the money."

"I don't give a shit. Get off of my property before I call the cops." I tried to close the door once again and he blocked it.

"Lydia, I'm begging you. Please, I'm your dad."

"You're not my dad! You have five seconds before I call the cops. Get off of my fucking property!" I slammed the door. He didn't fight back this time. I looked out of the window to see his car driving off.

I didn't realize that I had started crying until I felt a tear fall onto my hand. No. I wasn't supposed to cry over the big things.

I need a distraction. I decided to go for a drive. I didn't realize where I was heading until I pulled into Daniel's driveway. I took a second to control my breathing and wiped away my tears before getting out of the car.

.

.

.

I walked out of my room when I heard the doorbell ring. I looked through the peephole and saw Lydia getting drenched from the rain. I smiled to myself. When I opened the door she crashed her lips into mine.

"Woah," I pulled her off. I looked into her eyes to see they were red and puffy as if she were crying. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Please just distract me." She kissed me again and pushed me onto the couch.

Before she could sit on my lap, I interrupted her. "Lydia, I don't want you to get in trouble with your mom again."

"She's on a business trip. Now can you just shut up?"

"Lydia, what's wro..."

"I don't want to talk about it! I never wanted to talk about it. I never wanted to be reminded because he was gone! He wasn't even a real person in my mind. He didn't deserve a spot in my life. He tells a seven-year-old he doesn't want them and then has the audacity to come back eleven years later just to ask for money so that he could probably get high or drunk with his friends and act stupid! Who the hell does he think he is? I didn't even have to think about him. I was smart. I was nice. I was perfect! As long as I was perfect, no one would ask me about my drunk, cheating, deadbeat, terrible excuse for a father. Without him I was perfect. So, why'd he have to ruin that!" At this point, she was sobbing and shaking.

I pulled her into my lap and held her tightly. She buried her head into my neck. I just sat there holding her as she cried.

How could someone be that good of a person, but come from someone so terrible? She must have more of her mother's genes.

After a couple of minutes of just holding and rocking her, her breathing finally started to slow.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I got your clothes wet."

"That's the least of my worries right now."

"You were right. It did explode."

"I noticed," I smiled at her and she didn't smile back.

Her eyes still shined, but I knew this time it was from tears and not charm. Somehow she still looked beautiful. I don't think anything could take that away.

"Stop staring at me," she deadpanned. I let out a laugh. She gave a small smile but turned away before I could really see it.

"Talk to me."

"About what?"

"About him."

"I don't want to."

"Just because you don't want to doesn't mean you shouldn't."

She sighed. "He's a dumbass."

"That's a great start," I smiled.

"Somehow he got my number and texted me. Then he came to my house, pretended he was being all nice, and wanted to be a part of my life. And then he asked me for money." She paused. "The saddest part was I almost believed him. I wanted him to be genuine. But in the back of my mind I knew. Old habits die hard." She rested her head back on my shoulder while I listened.

"The worst experiences make the best people."

We sat in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. When I looked down I saw that she was sleeping. I carried her to my room and laid her down on my bed.