DISCLAIMER: Although I'd love to, I take no credit for the beloved DC
characters my story centers around. This story is strictly for my own
entertainment and that of anyone who chooses to read it. Please leave me
feedback if you do read, and I'll keep it coming.
Amy sat stiffly in the car next to her dad and stared straight ahead. The silence between them was heavy. She dug her fingernails into her legs and willed herself not to cry from sheer frustration at his behavior this afternoon.
Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. "Are you trying to ruin my life?" she demanded.
Jack McPhee glanced briefly at his adopted daughter, his expression not changing, then returned his gaze to the road. "What kind of question is that?"
"A valid one. And a rhetorical one. You must be."
"Amy, I'd rather not discuss this right now. It's been a long day, and we're going to sit down and have a talk tonight, but I just can't fight with you now."
"It doesn't have to be a fight, Dad."
"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure it will turn into one, aren't you?"
"Only because you're being unreasonable and tyrannical."
"All right, you want to do this now, we'll do this now. Amy, you are 15 years old. Fifteen years old is way too young to go away on an overnight trip with members of the opposite sex. There will be no further discussion about this, because the case is closed," he said with an air of finality that infuriated Amy.
"Do you trust me? Have I given you any reason not to trust me in the decade and a half that I've been in your care? I think you're pretty damn lucky that I'm as good as I am, in fact. Most kids with two fathers are probably dysfunctional social outcasts. You turn out a well-rounded, highly adjusted kid with good friends with clean records, and you punish me for it."
"I'm not punishing you. And of course I trust you. It's other people I don't trust, and you know it."
"Dad, you know my friends! You know me. What's the problem here?"
"I told you the problem here. Now drop it, or I'm letting you out to walk home," Jack said with a slight twinkle in his eyes. As frustrating as Amy could be when she was arguing, it was when she really got fired up that he could almost believe his best friend Jen was alive again. Amy was so much like her mother it was uncanny.
"Go right ahead; see if I care. I'll go live with Aunt Joey and Uncle Pacey," Amy said bitterly.
She couldn't believe he was being like this. She had been discussing the upcoming ski trip with two of her friends after the English class that Jack taught when he overheard them. He had the nerve to butt into the conversation, ask who was going on "this trip of yours," and then embarrass the hell out of her by saying that she wasn't going on any trip with a bunch of teenage girls, much less boys.
Now, angrier still at the slightly amused look on her father's face, Amy blurted out, "I'll just ask Doug. He'll let me go."
Jack looked at her with one eyebrow raised. "You're kidding, right?" he asked incredulously.
Amy considered. Yes, Doug was probably more apt to lock her in her room to ensure she didn't go than to grant her permission. Bad plan. She folded her arms and gazed out the window.
Amy sat stiffly in the car next to her dad and stared straight ahead. The silence between them was heavy. She dug her fingernails into her legs and willed herself not to cry from sheer frustration at his behavior this afternoon.
Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. "Are you trying to ruin my life?" she demanded.
Jack McPhee glanced briefly at his adopted daughter, his expression not changing, then returned his gaze to the road. "What kind of question is that?"
"A valid one. And a rhetorical one. You must be."
"Amy, I'd rather not discuss this right now. It's been a long day, and we're going to sit down and have a talk tonight, but I just can't fight with you now."
"It doesn't have to be a fight, Dad."
"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure it will turn into one, aren't you?"
"Only because you're being unreasonable and tyrannical."
"All right, you want to do this now, we'll do this now. Amy, you are 15 years old. Fifteen years old is way too young to go away on an overnight trip with members of the opposite sex. There will be no further discussion about this, because the case is closed," he said with an air of finality that infuriated Amy.
"Do you trust me? Have I given you any reason not to trust me in the decade and a half that I've been in your care? I think you're pretty damn lucky that I'm as good as I am, in fact. Most kids with two fathers are probably dysfunctional social outcasts. You turn out a well-rounded, highly adjusted kid with good friends with clean records, and you punish me for it."
"I'm not punishing you. And of course I trust you. It's other people I don't trust, and you know it."
"Dad, you know my friends! You know me. What's the problem here?"
"I told you the problem here. Now drop it, or I'm letting you out to walk home," Jack said with a slight twinkle in his eyes. As frustrating as Amy could be when she was arguing, it was when she really got fired up that he could almost believe his best friend Jen was alive again. Amy was so much like her mother it was uncanny.
"Go right ahead; see if I care. I'll go live with Aunt Joey and Uncle Pacey," Amy said bitterly.
She couldn't believe he was being like this. She had been discussing the upcoming ski trip with two of her friends after the English class that Jack taught when he overheard them. He had the nerve to butt into the conversation, ask who was going on "this trip of yours," and then embarrass the hell out of her by saying that she wasn't going on any trip with a bunch of teenage girls, much less boys.
Now, angrier still at the slightly amused look on her father's face, Amy blurted out, "I'll just ask Doug. He'll let me go."
Jack looked at her with one eyebrow raised. "You're kidding, right?" he asked incredulously.
Amy considered. Yes, Doug was probably more apt to lock her in her room to ensure she didn't go than to grant her permission. Bad plan. She folded her arms and gazed out the window.