Chapter 5: The talk.

The first thing that had happened when I unlock the front door of my house and got in was being rammed hard in the abdomen by something big, black, and very furry. I know from experience as to what that thing was. My dog. Toothless.

" Hey bud." I gasped in pain as I start to scratch behind his ears. His favorite place.

Toothless looks at me with those big eyes of his and wags his tail in excitement. He obviously looks so happy to be back inside the house.

I take a good look at him. He definitely looks and smells better with his fur washed and brushed neatly. That's for sure. Dad must have taken him to the dog wash while he was on his lunch break.

Toothless got himself skunked the night before when I let him loose in the backyard. He mostly had a thing for going after squirrels or even cats whenever they crawl through the backyard. But last night of all things to chase, he had to go after a skunk. I hope that by now he has learned his lesson and won't do this again in the future. But there are no guarantees from that dog.

Once I make sure that his food and water bowls was filled, I head upstairs to my room to get started on my homework for the night.

I don't particularly have a big bedroom, but it is utilized to best of its capabilities. My closet is in the corner next the only window in the room. My twin bed is shoved near the short end of the slanted ceiling. My desk that I use for my homework is shoved between the door and the closet.

For a small room, it is decorated majorly with tons of artwork that are posters of my favorite artists' work. Mostly Van Gogh. Especially his famous Starry Night painting that is displayed over my bed. I would remember my mom showing it to me and I would look at it with awe as she explained the piece to me.

I love Van Gogh. His impressionist style. What the inside of his head must have been. His life story was a tragic one. Only in his thirties when he killed himself. Did he have struggles like me too?

Most people think we are poor by the way I dress and that we have a small house. At least that was a rumor that Dagny had spread. The truth is that we have money. A lot of money. That my dad had earned from having some million dollar contract with an active wear clothing company in his olympian days. So money is not a real issue with us.

The truth is that this was once my mom's childhood home when she grew up here before meeting my dad and moving in with him into some apartment for a while. When my maternal grandparents had died way before I was even an idea, they got this house as part of their will. My mom just didn't want to let go of this place. Especially when she died, so did my dad.

I immediately start on my art projects. Since I have a showcase to prepare for in the next couple of months. I hated the fact that I am forced into this. I don't even have any ideas for my concept to display. What does Mr. Kieser expect me to do? Just suddenly become someone like Van Gogh and make the best art in the world? I can't even be a normal girl that I am suppose to be for everyone else. Nor the normal guy that I want to be.

Sometimes I wished that I wasn't even good at anything. Especially with art. Because with art you have to explain why you chose to make something like this. You're suppose to have confidence in yourself and your work with such ease. That's difficult for me because I have none of that.

Luckily I only had art and some math for homework tonight. It doesn't take that long when I finish it up and proceed to back downstairs to the kitchen to make dinner for me and dad.

As usually, Toothless is standing right next to me as I sizzle the meat and boiling the noodles on the stove for stir fry tonight. He always tries to give me the puppy pouting look, so I would relent and give him some of the meat. Which sometimes, it works.

I can cook. Now by meaning 'I can cook,' That is the fancy term saying that I cook something without turning the food into burnt offerings to the gods. My mother can do that. Sometimes my dad as well, but it only happens when he tries to do something that is complex like baking.

As I finish up making dinner, I hear the door open and close loudly. My stomach had started to sink to the floor if it could. My dad must be home.

" Henrietta. We need to talk." I heard him. He does not sound all that happy. He must have gotten the call from the dean early.

" Let me finish cooking." Was all I could say. I don't like this one bit.

He doesn't say anything. But he has that look of disappointment written all over his face. Looks can speak a lot of words. I know that from past experience.

It doesn't take long before I finish making the dinner and setting the table. We sit on opposite sides of the table looking at each other. Not touching our dinner dishes.

" Henrietta." He started with his brows furrowed.

" Dad." I said numbly.

" I got a call from the dean. It's obvious you know the reason." He said folding his arms.

" For your information, Snotlout deserved it." I said my case.

" Snotlout?" He asked. Oh right he doesn't know much about the nicknames.

" Simon." I corrected.

" You beat him up until he was screaming for his mommy Henrietta. This is serious." He said very upset.

" It's not that big of a deal. Everyone gets into fights. You got into fights more often when you were my age."

" How did you know that?" He asked in shock.

I was hesitant to say the truth, but there was no other explanation. " Mom told me a long time ago." I quietly said.

He lets out a heavy breath. " Oh Henrietta. I didn't want to tell you because I was worried that this would happen. I didn't want to put such ideas into your head."

Yeah. As if that would help much.

" I just want you to act like more like a lady. Like Oswald's daughter. Your mother would never do something like this. Beating up a boy over some small thing."

As if Dagny was a real lady by how crappy she treats the whole world like.

" He was harassing Frederick! I couldn't let him get away with it." I shouted over him.

" Then you tell a teacher." He said sternly and that shut me. I would have argued more, but that look in his eyes are suggesting that I probably should keep my mouth shut. But he's probably right that I may have taken this too far this time.

I let out a breath myself as I move around my dinner. I look at him and said, " Look. What's done is done. Nothing you can do about it."

He massages the sides of his forehead as he said, " At least you didn't get suspended from school nor have this one on your permanent record. I heard you do have to see a social worker though."

" I'm looking forward to it like a toothache." I rolled my eyes.

He looks at me straight in the eye. Now I know this is when he is dead serious on what he wants out of me.

He said these words to me," Alright. Listen to me little lady. You're going to talk to the social worker and be serious about it. Hopefully we won't have any more incidents like this and we can put this whole thing to rest. Deal?"

" This feels very one sided..." I started but he talked over me, " Deal!?"

I let out a breath. There's no winning this one. I look at him and I said quietly, " Deal."

" Alright. Now I have to go on a business trip with the Olympic committee in a couple of days. The trip will be about a couple of weeks. Can you handle yourself and not burn down the house while I'm gone?" He asks me sternly.

" Yeah." I responded.

He doesn't say anything as he leaves the kitchen with his dish. He's probably taking it to his office since he is still kinda frustrated with me.

I wasn't surprised that he said was going on a business trip with the Olympic committee. He always goes on these trips at this point of the year. He would be gone for about a month or less and I would stay here to mind the house in the meantime.

He and I try to get along, but it just never works out. He would always compare me to mom. I would try swallow it down as much as possible. I wish that I could be honest with him. But honesty never works out. Just tolerating it does. We have some sort of a mutual understanding. As long as I try to stay out of trouble and out of the way, he wouldn't raise too much of a stink about my personal choices.

I pick up my partiality empty plate and give the rest in Toothless' dog bowl before I wash the plate in the sink.

As I put the plate in the dish washer, I thought of this. I wonder if he knows that I got into the art show? Most likely not. While he was too busy with being disappointed on how I am not like my mom and with his job, he just never had the room in his life to say the good things from me. If there are any?


Shorter than usual, but it didn't real need that much more to the chapter. Plus I'm back in school so it's going to be hard to update on a normal basis. But I am willing to try to do everything I can to make sure it happens. So please be patient with me. I'm in school while trying to juggle several other fanfics plus planning a sequel for my Big Hero 7 story.

Please review and see you later.