Just a couple of thing: Number one, Meli doesn't use regular curse words, she substitutes cleaner words (eg: filth and poo). Number two: I know nobody's reviewing, but I noticed a few people had this story on their alerts, so I felt compelled to update this chapter. In future though, I'm not updating unless I get at least two reviews.

Chapter Four

Meli arrived right on time, as usual, with all the junk and stuff that would be required for any kind of investigation. It wasn't that she put it all together at my request after hearing my suspicions over the phone. It was that she always carried it with her. She was like an ultra scout, always prepared. I once got a run in my stockings and she was right there with a spare pair the exact same size and shade. Quite frankly, I had no idea how I survived at a school without her, my own disorganised mind tended to forget anything that was not immediately in front of me, which is why I refused to close my closet doors and renovated my chest of drawers so that I could see into them. If it weren't for the fact that I could see my underwear through the purple tinted Perspex I would probably go commando most days. I shudder at the thought. The phrase, "Out of sight, out of mind" really was an extreme notion with me, not that I hadn't been working on my dilemma. I now keep clearly visible check lists at every check point throughout Papa's apartment: My bedroom door, the kitchen, the bathroom, and of course, the door leading to the elevator.

But I digress.

The moment I opened the back door (yes, she always comes to the back door. She was very put out upon learning that Papa's apartment did not have a back entrance save for the window, and I'm pretty sure she wasn't the type to scale a seven story building just to visit a friend. She had settled with the back entrance of the entire building, but still griped about it on the occasion.) I was thrown to the ground in one of Meli's signature bone crushing 'I missed you, you bitch' hugs. I've gotten one every month since I changed schools, and I still have the feint bruise on my shoulder from the last time when she pushed me full force into the edge of an end table. I was flat on my back, trying to get some air into my lungs when she suddenly slapped me upside the head. Shock ran straight to my face (all too expressive as far as Papa was concerned) and I blinked up into her face.

"Wha-?"

"I hate you!" she whispered menacingly. I was about to try to articulate my question again when she continued. "You know what I realised last week? All the guys I dated up until this year? Yeah, they were all because of you. Not a single guy has spoken to me since you left to go to that snotty lesbian school. Wait, that was a lie. A couple of guys have spoken to me. To ask about you. What is so damn special about you that you get all the damn guys? And why did you have to leave in the first place? If it weren't for you I never would have realised that I am not the least bit attractive! I would have been happy believing that those guys actually liked me for me!"

Finally at the end of her rant, she sat back so that her weight, slight as it was, rested heavily on my pelvic bone, crossed her arms over her moderate chest and stared at me pointedly. Waiting for answers apparently. I took a deep breath and began methodically working through the questions I remembered from her tirade. "I have no idea why guys like me so much, but you can guarantee that I'm not getting attention from any of them anymore. As you pointed out, I'm now at an all girls school. The most attention I get now a days is from butch girls who where flannel when they're not in those horrible blazers." She huffed in a 'serves you right' kind of way. "You know damn well why I had to leave. It was your fault."

"It was not my fault. You didn't have to put the smoke bomb in the toilet!"

"You Double Dared me! And you employed Darer's Day Off!! How was I supposed to back down?"

"Whatever. The point is, I'm trying to talk my parents into sending me to that hoity-toity school that you're getting your education from these days. Dad's all for it, says there are too many guys lusting after me and he can't afford another court order if they start trying to get closer to me. "Mum, on the other hand is worried about the lack of male attendants and is afraid I'll turn on my fellow females."

"You'd think their concerns would be financial situation."

"Yeah, go figure. I can't believe mum's so concerned about my sexuality though, I mean, seriously. Where does she get these ideas?"

In reply, I simply looked down my body to where her feminine area was situated uncomfortable close to my own, given the current topic of conversation. She saw the uneasiness on my face and wriggled her hips response. An unknown feeling jolted through my body for a moment and I was compelled, through confusion, to push her off and scramble to my feet.

"Oh come on," she groaned from her place on the floor. "You're such a homophobe."

"I'm not a homophobe," I said defensively. "I just don't like the thought of girls coming onto me."

"Honey, I've known you over half my life, it would be weird to come onto you." She hadn't stated that she didn't swing that way, she simply told me that it would be weird to have a thing with me. Was that something significant? I don't know, but my brain was storing it away for future encounters like the one that just transpired. "Anyway, enough about gays, what kind of incriminating evidence are we looking for today? I only ask because of what happened last time."

Last time, of course, referred to when she found incriminating evidence of a father's crime that I did not suspect Dad of. I spend the following week avoiding them both (Meli and Dad).

"Dad was really tired when he got up this morning. He mentioned having had a 'hard couple of days.' We both know that Dad works hard all the time and has never been tired in the morning before."

"So what are your thoughts? Drugs? Dealing or taking? Either way could be interesting, and cause the fatigue. There's also every other illegal activity known on the planet. I mean, he's a cop, he'd know every back alley and loop hole. It'd be easy for him to conduct the activities undetected. Maybe he's just been taking extra shifts? Not really exciting, but it's still an option we should consider to begin with. Anything else?"

"He felt guilty for having to go to work today and not being able to spend time with me," I mentioned. "What does that tell you?"

"That he obviously needs to get to know you a bit more? Maybe learn what the typical fifteen year old girl is like? Or there could be a new interest in his life and he doesn't want you to feel neglected."

"Omigord!" I exclaimed. "Please tell me you are not suggesting that my Dad has a girlfriend! That's just wrong!"

"Well, it is a possibility. And he did mention that he's had a 'hard couple of days.'" She wiggled her eyebrows at me and I felt heat rush to my cheeks.

"Please, I don't want to think of my dad like that."

"Okay, I'll take the bedroom then. You take the study." She was rooting through her bag of goodies for God only knew what.

The phone rang as I was digging through the side table in the hall three hours later, making me jump and almost knock the lamp over. No one had ever called the house while Dad was at work before. They all just went straight to his cell phone. That probably meant it was for me. Or it was telemarketers. Or someone else...

I stared at the ringing phone for a full minute until Meli came to the top of the stairs, hands on hips glaring down at me. "Are you gonna get that?"

"No one ever calls," I muttered. I had the phone in my hand, but was now staring up at Meli. "No one has ever called the house when he's at work."

"A week of firsts. Answer the thing or I will."

I nodded numbly and pressed the talk button, moving the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number. I'm looking for Joseph Morelli," the cool female voice explained.

"Dad's at work at the moment. You could try his cell, or I could give him a message when he gets home tonight. It's up to you." Why is some chick calling Dad at home on a week day during the hours that everyone knows he's at work?

"Dad?" she asked curiously. "Joseph is your father?"

"Yes ma'am."

"He didn't tell me he had a daughter."

"Who, may I ask, are you that you feel he should have told you?"

There was a long pause on her end of the line. It was the kind of silence that people used to sort through things in their heads, so I guessed that was what she was doing. The seconds ticked by and I started to get annoyed. "I'm a... an... associate..." she finally explained awkwardly.

"Right," I said suspiciously. "Well, like I said, leave a message or try his cell."

"I'll try his cell." She didn't even utter a goodbye, just immediately hung up.

"WHAT THE FILTH!?" Meli screamed from upstairs. Her hurried stomping footsteps penetrated my mental fog as she made her way down the stairs. "Who the filth was that?" she asked more quietly from close by.

"One of Dad's associates?" I guessed.

She grabbed my shoulders roughly and shook me. "Gen, put your brain in, will you? There is no way that your Dad has associates ringing his house on a week day morning sounding like that when he's at work! And did you hear the surprise in his voice when you mentioned that you were his daughter? Gen, I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but, your Dad is dating."

I couldn't breathe. It felt like I had been submerged in cold water without a respirator. My knees buckled and I felt the impact of my ass hitting the floor. Through my clouded vision I could vaguely make out the concerned features of Meli's face, just inches from my own. The roaring in my ears almost drowned out her words.

"Gen? Genny? Are you okay? What's wrong? Gen? Can you hear me? Honey you need to breathe. Gen? Poo. Who do I call? Dad? Papa? Les? Poo, poo, poo. Okay Meli, make a decision now. Dad would just get up us for snooping. Papa is probably in the wind. It's holidays, of course he's in the wind, he's always in the wind on holidays. Lester tends to overreact. Tank!" I was fuzzily aware of her reaching into my pocket and grabbing out my cell phone before I gave into the dizziness and collapsed backwards to the tune of her button punching.

Two reviews, people. That's what it will take to continue the story.