2.
I was lounging on my long red chair, gazing out the window, dreaming, when my father walked into my room.
"Spencer?" My dad said walking into my room.
I twisted around. "Yeah?" I asked.
"Are you okay with my hiring Toby for the backyard job?"
"WHAT?" I asked, shocked. Toby had been cleared a couple weeks ago, but people still avoided him.
"Your mother said she'd tell you," Dad said, frowning. "It's cheaper to hire him than a professional."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine with it," I said absently. I couldn't believe him. Hiring someone because it was cheaper, not because they'd do a good job, wasn't my idea of fairness. Good business, but not good fairness.
"Very well," my father said, leaving.
"Bye," I mumbled. I sighed, looking out the window at the pouring rain. So Toby was going to be working on the house. I would see him again.
By now, I didn't know if that was good or bad.
Just then I got a text.
A new boy? And I thought we told each other everything. Kisses! –A
I glared at my phone, suddenly overcome with an insane desire to toss it at the wall.
I stood up and stomped out of the room, and downstairs.
"Spencer!" said Melissa. "Could you walk any louder?"
I rolled my eyes and opened the fridge, grabbing a yogurt.
"You know Toby Cavanaugh is going to be working on the house, right?" Melissa asked in a snotty tone.
I slammed the fridge door. "Yes Melissa, I did know that. So if you're not going to just drop the snottiness and hold a decent conversation, I'm off," I said feeling extremely proud of myself.
