Knox’s POV
“Knoxville, come in here,” my father called down the hallway as I kicked off my tennis shoes. I set my book bag down beside my shoes, following the sound of my dad’s voice. He was in his study, as usual, sorting through papers.
“Yeah?” I asked, leaning against the doorway. I worked on loosening the collar of my dress shirt–Alfred had already taken my coat at the door–as he straightened in his seat. I hated my predatory uniform.
“How was school?” he asked, to which I narrowed my eyes, taken aback. He never asked me any personal questions.
“What do you want?” I asked, causing him to narrow his eyes at my tone.
“To talk to my son.” I stayed silent, my mouth in a line, and he sighed. “You’re going to be at my upcoming conference.”
“I have pla-” He cut me off.
“Cancel them. This is more important than any bimbo, Knoxville.” I gritted my teeth together, peeved to the peak.
“She’s not a fling, f-”
“You’re coming, whether you like it or not.” Rolling my eyes, I pushed off of the doorframe, rigidly walking down the hallway, angry thoughts abuzzing.
–
“Ronny,” I said, prying Veronica Langston off of my arm.”Look, I’m sorry, but my dad says that I have to be there.”
She looked up at me with those big puppy dog eyes, the ones I had just gotten used to over the past two weeks, though really had no effect on me. I smiled, pushing her away slightly.
“I’m sorry I can’t make it to your little sister’s party,” I said, backing away. I snapped her a quick salute, and she frowned, watching me as I climbed into the backseat of my Rollz Royce, snapping my fingers to get Alfred’s attention. He sped away from Alexander Hall Prepatory. It was Friday and, for that, I was thankful.
Time to get my party on.
Realistic Fiction
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