I comb my fingers through my hair one last time before grabbing my bag and heading out of the bathroom. I jog down the stairs to find Mom. She said she'd give me money for the movies before I leave. Instead, I find Dad in the kitchen going over some tests. Good enough... "Daddy?" I turn up the girly charm. He tends to give me whatever I ask for when I act like Daddy's Little Girl.

He jerks his head in my direction. "Yeah, sweetie?"

"I need twenty dollars."

"Why?"

"I'm going to the movies. Mom said I could go."

"With who?"

"Uh, Tammy, Haley, Taylor-"

"Taylor? Is that a boy or a girl?"

"What does it matter?"

"You know why."

"Taylor's a girl, Dad. I'm holding on to my virginity for at least one more night."

"Ha, ha." He pulls out his wallet and rifles through it. "What movie are you seeing?"

"I forget the name, but it's a horror movie."

"Horror movie?" He slaps his wallet shut. "Does Mom know you're going to a horror movie?"

"Yes! I'm 16, Dad. I can handle a horror movie."

"Hm... And Mom's okay with this?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Alright, fine. Here's a twenty. Be home by eight."

"It's already six! The movie won't be over until at least nine."

"So?"

"So, I won't get to see the end of the movie."

"So?"

"Da-ad..."

"You're lucky I'm even letting you go. Take it or leave it, missy."

"You're the worst! You're like a freaking dictator!"

Dad opens his mouth in rebuttal, but Mom walks in at just the right moment. "What's going on in here?"

"Dad isn't letting me go to the movies!"

She rolls her eyes. "Nate, come on." Mom snatches Dad's wallet from between his fingers and takes out the same twenty he refused to give me. "Here, Lizzy. Go have fun. I thought I heard a car horn outside."

"Thanks Mom. Love you!"

"Love you, too, sweetheart," I hear floating after me as I make a break for the door before Dad can call me back.

Two years later...

"Liz, I called you for dinner half an hour ago!" comes Dad's voice from downstairs. "It's getting cold!"

I sigh and pull my ear buds out. "Coming!" I slide down the banister, landing at Dad's feet. He has his arms crossed and jaw set.

"Young lady, when I call you, you answer."

"Sorry, I was practicing my Sugar Plum variation."

"Don't you get enough practice at dance?"

"Miss Jill says I should practice more at home. She says this performance could be my ticket to Julliard."

"Oh, not this again. I thought we ruled out Julliard?"

"Nate! Lizzy! Dinner!" Mom calls.

We make our way to the kitchen, refusing to look at each other. Dad is being such a jerk. Julliard was never off the table and he knows that. He's just disappointed I'm not into history like him and Mom. It's like he hates me or something.

The table is silent, save for Victor. He babbles on about robotics team. Mom responds with nods and smiles, occasionally reminding him to chew his food. "...And then I reprogrammed the cart to flip over the cone!" he finishes.

"That's great, honey. How was your day, Lizzy?"

"Well, school was... school. Dance was awesome, though. Mister Johnathan complimented my arabesque," I say.

"Have you finished your homework yet?" Dad asks.

"No, but I was planning on doing it after I ran through the variation a few times."

"Homework comes before dance," he scolds. "We've had this conversation before. Slaking off now will take away your prospects for college."

"Has it ever crossed your mind that I don't want to go to college?"

Dad furrows his brow. "What do you mean you don't want to go? How else are you going to provide for yourself?"

"Ballet, Dad! I've told you hundreds of times I don't like history."

"Elizabeth, not at the dinner table," Mom says wearily.

"No, we're getting this notion out of her head right now," Dad argues, eyes never leaving me for an instant. "What makes you think 'ballet' is a good career option? You hit 30 and you're done. What are you going to do then?"

"I'll teach dance to young kids."

He scoffs and throws his hands in the air. "I don't get it! You're smart, Lizzy. You could make a lot of money using that brain of yours."

"But I'll hate my job! I love ballet, Dad! That's what I want to do! Do you want me to live my life heartbroken?"

"Whatever happened to the Lizzy that loved to read and learn?"

"I still do! I just love dance more. And so what if I end up homeless? It'll make life just a little more exciting. It'll be an adventure."

Dad shakes his head vehemently. "That's one adventure you're never going to take. You're not going to live on the streets. You're going to get a well paying job to be able to provide for yourself."

"I'll just marry rich."

"No, you can't be dependent on some man. That's how those abusive relationships start."

"That only happens in the movies."

"It happens more often than you think." He adopts a softer tone and holds meaning in his eyes.

Not wanting him to elaborate on whatever sad thought he was thinking of, I go back to, "I'm going to join a ballet company and nothing you say is going to change my mind." I shove my seat back and tromp up to my room.

Who does he think he is?

A/N: Sorry it's been awhile. I've just been lazy. Watching your boyfriend play chess is the perfect time to write.