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Anya lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling of her moderately-sized dorm room. Her digital alarm clocks LCD display burned a crisp 4:05 AM in the darkness. In two hours and a half she would have to go to class. Her music player was still operating, singing out Pink Floyds later, more ambient sounds. In her head, she went over all the homework she had and every project due withing the next three weeks. Everything was according to schedule. She continued to stare, thinking about how she would make the most of the first weekend her roommate, Tara, was gone.
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My dad and I had always been close in what some people would call an odd way. My mom passed away when I was 3 so dad basically raised me by himself. Growing up we did everything together. Cuddled (sometimes he would be naked) and watched sports, went to games, he would give me baths, and some other stuff. But as I got older I noticed how dad would start to look at me more and more and for longer amounts of time.
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