Cohen Chronicles
Chapter 2
Playing With Fire: Marah's Introduction
In a panic, I throw my towel on the bed and dash around my room to my dresser. I snatch out a pair of black satin bikini panties, a matching bra, and get them on as fast as I possibly can. On tip toes I step over my clothes, jewelry, and shoes strewn all across my bedroom floor and somehow make it to my closet to grab a fitted, knee length, cotton summer dress off a hanger. I know it's slightly too small for me but desperate times call for desperate measures. It's white with silver flowers painted just above the hemline. I pull it over my head noticing how it clings to me as I shimmy it down my body, but I don't have time to care. Wildly, I glance down to my closet floor and spot a pair of silver slip-in sandals. I bend down and snatch them out and slip my feet into them quickly. I step to the side and do a quick check in my full length mirror and observe how I look. The dress shows off my hourglass figure in a way that is slightly inappropriate for school. My high breasts and slender waist are accentuated by the snug fit. I turn a bit to the side to make sure it doesn't look too bad and note that while it does cling to my ass it doesn't look obscene, but I do see a bit of a panty line. Oh well. I don't have time to worry about it.
Hurriedly, I make my way back to my dresser and toss open a box full of hair accessories. I find a hair elastic and force my long, wild curly hair into it to make a lopsided ponytail. I slam the box shut and snatch open my jewelry box. I put on the platinum necklace with the small diamond Star of David pendant on it that my father gave me for becoming a bat mitzvah. I check my ears to make sure both my small round diamond studs are still in my ears. They are and I realize that I just don't have time for any makeup today. Besides, Daddy rolls his eyes every single time I put on anything more than lip gloss and mascara anyway. Running across the hall to the bathroom, I risk a glance to the left and see Daddy's door shut. I swallow hard and rush into the bathroom to brush my teeth and apply deodorant. I'd forgotten to do that with all the drama earlier this morning.
The second I reach the sink, I look in the mirror. I skim my face and notice that my eyes look a bit red, my cheeks are flushed, and my hair doesn't look that great in the lopsided ponytail. I snatch my hair down and shake it out. My dark curls scatter all over the place down over my face, neck, and shoulders. I take my fingers and push some of it to one side so that it falls over my right eye. It makes me look much older than my 16 soon to be 17 years of age. It's actually kind of sexy and I decide to leave my hair this way. I finish up by brushing my teeth, apply deodorant, and head downstairs so Daddy can drive me to school.
Once I'm downstairs, I rush into the kitchen to find Daddy there fully dressed now in a faded New York Giants t-shirt , dark blue relaxed fit jeans, and his white Nike sneakers. His thick light brown hair is still damp from the shower he obviously took. I note how handsome he looks even in casual clothes and try not to think about the events of earlier. He's leaning against the counter sipping what I assume to be his coffee. Peering at me over his huge coffee mug, he looks a bit nervous. Instantly, I determine in my mind not to make this awkward for either of us. So I break the ice with, "Daddy, I am going to just have half a bagel and some juice for breakfast. I'll get lunch at school today."
Carefully, he sits his coffee cup down on the counter next to him and crosses his legs at the ankles . "Too late. I fixed you some waffles for breakfast and already packed your lunch. Turkey on pita bread, fruit salad, and some veggie sticks", he says with a grin while holding up my insulated lunch bag. I notice the waffles sitting on the kitchen island waiting for me. Simply thankful that he's not being weird over what happened upstairs, I thank him, and ease into onto one of the stools at kitchen island. I proceed to eat my waffles in silence. I can feel Daddy's eyes on me and I pretend to ignore it. But I can feel the intensity of his glare. My heart starts pounding like a jackhammer in my chest and my mind goes back to the events that happened only a short time ago in my bedroom. My face grows hot as I think about the look on Daddy's face when my towel dropped. He looked scared to death. I feel bad about how I spoke to him this morning, but I was entirely frustrated. Honestly, it wasn't about my hair. My hair has been the bane of my existence since I was like five, but everyone else loves it and from past experience I know I look like a fucktard with short hair. So I keep it long and the curls just have a mind of their own and I manage it as best I can. Interestingly, older guys are starting to tell me that it's sexy. Go figure. But I have a bigger issue than my hair.
Pete Abrams. He's made my life hell this year and recently told everyone he could possibly tell that I fucked him in his basement after we went to the movies last weekend. Ugh! The little shit! I wouldn't let him sniff me let alone fuck me. But ten idiots at school believed him and I actually had to defend to my friends that I didn't let him touch me after the movie, which is the truth. Sarah sent me a text this morning to tell me be prepared when I come to school for shit because her cousin Josh told her Pete fully intends to keep up the lie. The bastard! First of all, Daddy would probably try to kill Pete and ring my little neck if he even thought I was thinking about banging Pete Abrams. And frankly, I don't want my Dad being sent up the fucking river over a douche like Pete Abrams. Furthermore, I kind of like my neck un-rung! Plus, I'm still a virgin and do have the intention of remaining that way until I'm married...unless. Unless what ? Just UNLESS! Relax, we'll get to it.
My mind goes back to the scene in my room and I think about Daddy's light gray pajama bottoms. I don't know why I got the intense urge to do what I did. Kissing his chest that way and easing my hands down his back. Okay, I do know, but I don't know if I'm ready to face all that just yet. Sure, I was upset about Pete's bullshit, but the truth is that I just needed to be close to Daddy right then. I haven't been able to help myself as the feelings that I have for Daddy are growing more intense day after day. I want more from him and with him.
I know that any kind of line crossing that way would be wrong. And Daddy would never do such a thing. Not ever. But I can't help but want him in every way possible. I think about him all the time and fully understand what my mother must have loved about him. Daddy looks younger than his 44 years. He actually looks about 30. He keeps himself in great shape and is well groomed. But it's more than that, really. It's just him. He's extremely intelligent , loving, giving, warm, and has devoted his entire life to me. He acts like I'm the most precious thing in the world to him and has never put anyone or anything above me. Don't get me wrong, Daddy has his faults. He can be a little overbearing and too protective. He also seems to rationalize away feelings for logic in most cases. Which can be very beneficial in some ways and quite detrimental in others.
He's made a lot of sacrifices to his own happiness to make sure that I'm okay. I think some of it is guilt because I never had a mother. Fucking intracranial aneurysm. She died on the table the day I was born. Daddy never remarried and claims he never will because the only woman he will ever want to be married to is my mother. Apparently, they had some epic love story. Too fucking bad she died and he had to raise me by himself. But he's done a great job and there's no one else that I love more. He certainly has never made me feel like he has any resentment toward me about her death. He does stare at me a lot when he thinks I don't know it. I've always assumed it's because I look just like her and he misses her a lot. He still has pictures up of them in the house and refuses to take them down. And well, I do look just like her except for my green eyes. Daddy gave me those and I think it's my best feature.
Personality wise, from everything I can tell I'm more like my mother than Daddy. I'm a bit emotional, high strung, determined, and very creative. I have a good heart and tend to wear it on my sleeve. I'm extremely loyal to a fault, but a holy terror if you fuck me over. Given, I cry easily because I am a softy at heart. I get decent grades and am involved in different activities in school and in my community. I read a lot and would say in general I'm a little more mature than my peers. I'm a guys gal, but still very feminine. Just as easily as I can watch a romantic comedy, I can watch someone get their clocked cleaned during a boxing or MMA match. I prefer to hang out with boys and have just a few close girlfriends that I've had since grade school. I do not prefer to hang out with boys because I'm a slut and anyone that knows me well, knows better.
