Ugh, here in Chicago, it's basically like Springtime; No Snow, Sun is Shining, Weather is warm, it's just beautiful outside. HOWEVER, I think I may be catching a cold, so I've been inside all weekend watching Jersey Shore and other fun stuff -_- BUT, I'm getting rather bored now, so, here's a new update Twice in a day? Beast mode, I know. What's gonna happen now that Punk's aware of what Emma's been doing? Read on

-Emma's POV-

"Haylee and Miss Ryan think that free-throws are my strongest quality and shooting 3-pointers, so far things are going pretty good," I said, walking into the house and flopping onto the couch.

"Nice," Phil said, shutting the door. He's been quiet the whole car ride, and when he finally does talk, it's only like, a word. Weird.

"So, what's for dinner?" I asked.

"I'll figure something out," Phil said again. Okay, somethings wrong…

"Is everything okay?" I asked, starting to sit up. Phil was now in the kitchen, placing some stuff down on the counter with his back turned to be. "Phil?" Then, he immediately turned around, and he didn't look so happy.

"You know what? No, nothing's okay. You know why? Because I just got done meeting with your Math Teacher," He began, fuming. My eyes popped open. Oh boy….

"Um…" I began.

"You can explain yourself after I'm finished," He said, interrupting me. "Not only are you not even TRYING, you're also not turning in work or bothering to show up to class! She told me you haven't shown up at all this week! Where the hell have you been!"

I just sat on the couch, biting my lower lip, while also bringing my knees up to my face, then resting my chin on them while wrapping my arms around my knees. Phil just got more impatient.

"So? Where have you been, young lady!" He yelled.

"Did you REALLY just call me young lady?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, which made Phil more mad.

"Don't even TRY changing the subject!" Phil yelled again. "Where have you been during 9th period!"

"Doing stuff…" I mumbled.

"What stuff?" He asked.

"Nothing that's any of your business," I said. Wait…what the HELL am I saying! I don't even know, but if I thought he was already pissed…

"WHAT did you just say to me?" Phil asked. Alright, watch what you say this time, Emma, watch what you say…

"You know you heard me," I said. DAMN IT!

"Let me tell you something," Phil said. "I'M your father, YOU'RE my daughter. I have EVERY SINGLE RIGHT to know what's going on with you, don't you DARE tell me otherwise. Understood?"

I sat there silently, sinking it all in. He just started walking closer.

"Do you UNDERSTAND?" He yelled again.

"Stop yelling!" I yelled back.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND!" He yelled again.

"YES!" I yelled back, then trying to bury my head into my knees, but he stopped me, then moved my head back up so I was looking right at him.

"Where have you been during 9th period for the past week," He said. He didn't yell, but he was still really pissed off and he said it pretty stern.

"I've been playing basketball in the gym…" I mumbled.

"You're fully aware that if you don't keep your grades up, there will be NO basketball, right?" Phil asked.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"So why the hell are you doing this!" He asked, slightly raising his voice. "You aren't even trying-"

"YES I AM!" I just shouted. "I AM TRYING!"

"NO YOU AREN'T!" Phil said. "You aren't turning in homework, you're failing tests, you aren't even doing the work in class!"

"THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M NOT TRYING!" I shouted again. I was getting mad now.

"Don't you DARE even yell at me!" Phil shouted at me.

"YOU'RE A HYPOCRITE FOR SAYING THAT!" I shouted again.

"GO TO YOUR ROOM, NOW!" Phil shouted again, he was really pissed now.

I jumped off the couch and started storming across the room upstairs, but I stopped halfway there.

"I HATE YOU!" I shouted halfway up the stairs, then storming down the hall into my room.

I slammed my door shut, then ran onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow, crying hysterically. That went on for about….maybe, 10 minutes? I don't know, but it went on for a LONG time. Eventually, I got myself together and grabbed my cellphone, then I started calling my mom.

"Hello?" She answered.

"Mom, it's me, Emma," I said, with a lump in my throat.

"Emma! I haven't spoken to you since you moved in with your father! How are you, sweetie?" She asked.

"I wanna move back in with you and Tony."