Chapter 17: This Plain Jane Got Casted By DH Models.

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I woke up the next morning feeling like shit. As soon as one of my alarms successfully woke me up, I knew I was going to have to face going downstairs sooner or later.

Or I could just climb out of the window?

I looked at the window of my room, actually considering the dumb idea. I shook my head and got out of bed. I grabbed a towel from my closet and left the room as silently as possible.

As a kid, I used to play this game I called 'Spy Kids', thanks to the movie, of course. I would creep through the halls of our house, crouching and crawling down the stairs in an attempt to spy on my dad. And if he ever happened to catch me, it was game over. Here I was, a twenty two year old woman, tip toeing my way from my bedroom to the bathroom, trying to go undetected by her father. The only difference was that this time I wasn't doing it for my own amusement; I was doing it out of pure guilt.

Somehow, I had managed to ignore the guilt that had been eating me alive for a bit as I took a shower and brushed my teeth. I wrapped the towel around my damp hair and headed out of the bathroom. I caught myself looking left and right, down the hall, before dashing to my room.

After getting dressed and drying my hair somewhat, I grabbed my side bag from on top of the dresser and threw it over my head and shoulder. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a while before grabbing a tube of mascara that was on the dresser and applying it.

Why do girls have to open or form these weird shapes with their mouths when applying mascara? I mean, I'm as guilty as anyone else but it's just so weird, you know? Like, does mascara have some sort of deal with um.. Gravity? Like "uh yeah fam, if someone starts using me you just do your magic on that lower jaw of theirs and yank it down a bit, okay?"

When I became satisfied with the appearance of my eyelashes, I put the tube back and grabbed a nude lipstick in exchange for it. I decided I'd probably just dab some on a bit later so I opened my bag and chucked it in there.

And I wonder why my bag is always such a mess.

I noticed the picture I got from Mr Harrings in my bag. I was planning on sticking it on the mirror of my dresser to give me some sort of confidence boost every morning or something but I also wanted to take it with me to work so I could shove it down Bethany's throat. I let out a sigh and knew what was best.

I left my room, completely forgetting the fact that I was super guilty like ten minutes ago. Reality hit me when I reached the last couple of steps of the staircase. Before I could reconsider the window idea, I walked into the kitchen. To my surprise, my dad wasn't even there. Every morning he'd be perched on the island with a newspaper in his hands but today, he wasn't. I tried not to give it too much thought, but failed in doing so.

Maybe he's still asleep.
Nah, you know how much of an early bird he is.
Maybe he really is asleep because he was up last night cooking and cleaning... Cooking and cleaning for you but you never showed up.

The phone on the wall behind me began to ring, bringing me out of my daydream/internal debate with myself. I walked up to it and quickly answered.

"Hun, what are you still doing at home? It's almost ten!"

I rolled my eyes. "Dad, why would you call unless you knew someone was home. Mum obviously has another shift, leaving me to answer the phone."

"That's how well I know my daughter. I called to tell you to hurry up and leave, that's all."

I laughed at that, he really did know me. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest.

Hey guilt, how've you been?

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