Except for an occasional mutter from their father, the car ride was silent. An early morning chill weighed down on eyelids and the dreary rain clouded the windows of the car. At every curve the girls leaned toward the sides like jello, but they maintained stoic faces and kept their hands folded in their laps.
Her father pulled up to the curb. As his daughters climbed out, he nervously adjusted his tie in the mirror and checked his phone. When he looked into his rear-view mirror again, he spotted Lisa, still sitting motionless in the middle of the back seat.
“What do you want?” he asked, agitated. He unlooped his tie and began to redo it.
“Daddy, it’s only Seven.”
“So?”
“So, my school starts at eight.”
“So?”
“So, it’s raining. I don’t want to sit in the rain for an hour.”
“Well listen, honey, I’ve got work, and I don’t want to be late! You know what pays for this goddamn expensive private school, Lisa? You know what? My Job that’s what! So get your SORRY ASS out of my car and go to BLOODY SCHOOL!”