Chapter Two
"Another Wasted bowl of Milk"
I woke up to 'Hey Baby' by Bruce Channel blaring on the radio. My eyes darted open, as sat up on my bed to be faced with Lisa sitting on her bed at the other side of the room, her legs crossed as she wore a pale blue dress, with a mirror sat on the bed next to her, she balanced it between her legs as she curled the hairbrush around the ends of her hair, with the radio playing loudly on her bedside table. "Oh, sorry Baby, did I wake you?" She said as more of a comment, as she continued staring at herself in the mirror. "Oh no." I said sarcastically, pulling myself up from my bed and walking to my wardrobe, opening the door and bending down to pull out some clothes for today. "No," I continued. "You didn't wake me; but you probably woke up the entire neighbourhood." I said slyly. "Funny." She commented again as I grabbed my outfit and walked to the bathroom.
Downstairs at the breakfast table my father sat reading the newspaper, whilst my mother did the dishes behind him. "Morning." He beamed behind the paper, before he brought his eyes back to the paper. I went to pour out some cereal, realising how strange it was not to be doing what I normally would be at Kellerman's, I was back to normal life now. "Think anymore on college honey?" My mother asked me, as she placed a plate on the drying rack with her dripping, yellow washing up gloves. College? She knew what I wanted to be and which college I had decided on going to. "I'm going to Mount Holyoke, mom- you know that." I explained, as I poured cereal into the bowl and went to the fridge to get some milk. "Yes... But..." My mother turned around and looked at me with a serious expression, placing a hand on my father's shoulder, he was now brought to realization as he set his paper down and looked at me. "What?" I questioned in curiosity as my heart thumped in my chest now, afraid of what she was implying. "Well, both you're father and I have been talking and we were just wondering if you still wanted to be in the Peace Corps." She said, urging my father to say something. "Why would you ask that?" I asked, wondering why my mother had asked that question, didn't she know me? "Changing the world is a great ambition Baby, but after you're little number at Kellerman's a few weeks ago, both you're mother and I thought you might have set your sights a little differently." My father, he didn't beat around the bush about anything, he had said exactly what my mother had been implying, I was just grateful someone decided to tell me what they were talking about. "Oh..." I said, in a low, serious tone, looking anywhere by at my parents. "Right... Dancing." I said, in realisation of what they were talking about, I had never considered becoming a dancer, but now that they had brought it to my attention. "Well, we saw you a few weeks ago honey, and you looked so happy on the dance floor." My mother continued, "I mean, we just thought that you might want to rethink your ideas. You were fabulous; wouldn't you think it'd be a waste if you just left it?" Where my parents really doing this? My father wanted me in a top rise job; he would have never agreed to be being a dancer. "I thought you wanted me to be in the Peace Corps Daddy?" I asked in confusion. "Baby." He half laughed. "It's not what I want, you made me realise that I can't live your life- you have to do what you want, I mean, we just thought you looked happiest on the dance floor than you ever did when you were talking about changing the world." My father explained. "Now, I don't know if that had anything to do with that Castle boy, but you did seem to be having the time of your life out there." My father had reminded me of Johnny, and then it hit me- I couldn't dance without him. "I can't dance Daddy." I had blurted out in the discomfort of this situation. "What?" My father laughed. "What're you talking about- you were great out there!" He laughed in approval. "No Daddy! I was great because of Johnny; I can't be a dancer." I explained with a slight hint of fury, before slamming the milk carton down and running out of the kitchen back to my room, to be faced with my sister, who would ask what was wrong. "I knew you shouldn't have brought up that boy, Jake." I heard my mother say as she went to return the milk to the fridge. "I know, I didn't think." My father replied, lifting the paper again.