Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans. I do own the OCs. I do own the plot. I do not own a 7 foot tall fire breathing dragon.
Chapter Eight- A Few Q&As
Dick got to the baseball field as fast as he could. Just as he was getting there, Chris was hanging up the pay phone. He had just found a few more quarters in his jean pocket and tried to call Dick's cell. Which Dick had turned off. Chris was about to drop in two more quarters to call his sisters back when Dick honked the horn.
Chris turned around and smiled when he saw his dad's car park across the lot. He picked up his backpack and raced to Dick.
"Where were you!" Chris exclaimed, shoving himself in the passenger seat.
"I was out and I lost track of the time. Sorry," explained Dick.
"But where were you?" Chris demanded.
"I was at….my old high school,"
"Which high school? Have I heard of it?" Christopher questioned.
"It's not around here. You probably haven't,"
"But I might have. Come on, what's the name?"
"You haven't heard of it," Dick tried to convince his son as he started driving back home.
"You don't know that for sure," Chris protested.
"Yes I do," Dick told him firmly. Chris shrugged and gave up. He started messing with the radio stations until they pulled up in the drive way.
Melanie heard a car pull up. She raced to the living room window and sighed with relief when she saw it was Dick and Chris.
"Trace! They're back!" she called. Tracy was in the kitchen trying to figure out her math homework.
"Finally!" she called back, running into the living room and jumping on the couch where her sister knelt. The two watched the front door open and Dick walk in.
"Where were you!" the girls exclaimed in unison.
"My old high school," Dick replied as Chris walked in and dropped his backpack on the floor. "Christopher, bring up that upstairs. Tracy, go ready. You're going to be late for practice,"
Chris sighed and Tracy nodded. They both headed upstairs. Melanie eyed her father.
"Why were you at your old school?" she demanded.
"Oh, well, they're planning a reunion," Dick lied.
"For your graduating class?" his daughter questioned. Dick knew it would be harder to get Melanie off his case. She was the smartest out of the three and always had some way to tell if you were lying.
"Yes," Dick replied.
"What year did you graduate?"
"I don't remember," said Dick, hoping it wouldn't take Tracy too long to get ready.
"Did mom go to the same school as you?"
"Yes,"
"Did she graduate with you?"
"Yes,"
"Does she remember what year you graduated?"
"No, she doesn't," said Dick. He felt horrible about lying to his own daughter, but it was for her own good. Before Melanie had the chance to finish her Q&A, a basketball bounced down the stairs. Tracy ran after it, picking it up when it stopped at her dad's feet. She was in full uniform and had a gym bag hanging from her shoulder.
"Come on, Dad!" she said as she rushed out the door.
"Can we finish this later?" Dick asked.
"Okay," said Melanie. Dick raced after Tracy, hoping she wouldn't start asking questions too. This was going to be hard.
A/N
Sorry it took a while for me to update. I had writer's block, then my computer crashed, then I had more writer's block, then I had school, and I think you get the picture. R&R!
TTFN
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