It's a good one, folks.

"Dad, a doctors appointment really isn't necessary...like, at all." I tell my father, enunciating each word to express my deep dislike and discomfort for doctors visits.

Waking up in the hospital is one thing. That situation was completely necessary and unavoidable. This is like choosing to be prodded and tortured. Needles? Not my thing, no thank you, never. Sticking them in when I'm unconscious? Whatever. Making me sit there fully aware while you stab a needle into my flesh? No.

"It's just a follow up, Lillian." My dad sighs as I search my closet as slowly as possible for an outfit to wear that will make my dad embarrassed to be out in public with me. "You'll be fine."

"Can you promise me no needles will be present?" I ask him with a raised brow, pulling out a white very mini skirt and purposefully allowing my dad to see it in my grasp, an underlying threat present in my eyes.

He presses his lips together as he glares at the shirt and gives me an exasperated sigh. "You know that's not up to me, Lily. That's not fair."

"Apparently life isn't fair if I have to go back to the hospital." I huff, pulling a baby pink crop top and throwing it onto the bed with the skirt.

"We're not going back to the hospital!" My dad tugs at his hair. "We're going to Doctor Edgewell in town - are...are you really going to wear that?" His index finger and thumb squeeze the bridge of his nose as he speaks with a frustrated tone.

I purse my lips, tilting my chin up defiantly. "I love you dad but...a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do."

There's a pause in the room before he lowers his hand and meets my gaze sternly. "This is for your own good, Lillian. Meet me in the car in twenty minutes. You can go naked for all I care, but you're coming with me." His last word ends just before he closes the door swiftly and descends the stairs.

"Ugh." I groan loudly, tensing my shoulders as I hang my head back and glare at the ceiling, a sense of rebellion stirring in my stomach. Grabbing the skirt and the crop top, I run to my closet in search of the high boots I can find; a pair of knee high boots with a thick heel.

I pull my clothes off quickly, throwing the outfit on stubbornly, not thinking twice before pulling on the heels and shuffling over to my vanity, grabbing a few gold necklaces to layer and a pair of simple earrings. Throwing on some makeup, I blink lightly to shoo away the dryness in my contact lenses and finish off my mascara.

"Lillian!" My dad's voice yells from downstairs. "Five minutes!"

"Okay!" I yell way louder than necessary, cringing at the attitude in my voice but still not yelling an apology.

I'm fully aware that my behavior is completely unnecessary but if you could just put yourself in my shoes and fully experience my fear and hatred for needles, you would probably hurl yourself out of my bedroom window to get away from this.

Granted, I am eighteen years old and technically my dad can't make me go to the Doctor's office but, since I live under his roof and pay no rent, I still feel obligated to listen to him. Plus I might be eighteen, but I am most definitely not an adult.

"Lillian." He barks again and I let out another loud frustrated mixture between a whine and a groan, tearing the white scrunchie from my curly hair and fixing my bangs, glaring at my stupid haircut choice in the mirror before marching out the door, my phone and chapstick in the back pocket of my skirt.

Hesitating for a moment in the hallway, I march back into my room and grab a white zip up jacket and throw it over my arm just in case I see someone I know and they think I'm making money being a stripper on the weekends.

As soon as I'm buckled in and stuck in the car with my father, I slowly and boldly look over at him, an eyebrow cocked as he appraises my attire with distaste. "This can all go away if you just agree to let me stay home." I tell him, pulling out my chapstick and slowly applying it to my lips.

He gives me a smirk, starting the car. "Nice try, Lillian." He sighs, pulling out of the driveway, "You're forgetting I dealt with your mom's manipulative ways for many years before you could even say the word no."

My mouth opens a little bit but I say nothing, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare out the window angrily. Despite what you may think, my dad and I aren't mad at each other. This is just kind of something that happens when one of us has to do something for the other but they're not exactly about it. It gets ugly but then we always get it done. Like when tax season comes and all my dad wants to do is watch YouTube videos on conspiracy theories and play pool with his friends.

"This is for your own good, Lilybug." He pats my bare leg with a compassionate smile as we park carefully in the parking lot of the doctors office. His eyes noticeably avoid the rest of me and lock onto my eyes. "I just wish I didn't have to take you in there looking like a prostitute."

I laugh, shaking my head as I tuck my hair behind my ear. "Yeah I'm kind of regretting it at this point. Here, I brought a jacket, I'll put it on." I sigh in defeat but silently thank myself for bringing some sort of coverage. I begin to grab the jacket from the center counsel but stop when my dad's eyes bug out of his head.

"Wait, Lillian!" He says, making me yell slightly.

"Ah! What is it?" I blink rapidly, my heart leaping out of my chest.

I watch with horror when he pulls the left sleeve from his coffee mug in the cup holder, his mouth slightly agape. "Oh crap..." He mumbles.

"Great." I whine, leaning my head against the headrest. "Maybe I can wring it out?" I offer desperately but he shakes his head slowly.

"It's soaked and it's going to get really sticky here in a few seconds. I put a lot of creamer in it in the midst of my rush." He gives me an apologetic wince.

"Ugh!" I cover my eyes with my palms of my hands and curse myself for being so stupid. "I cannot believe myself. Does it really look that bad?" My words come out hopeful as I gesture to my outfit, a pleading smile on my face.

He regards me, cringing at a few places that display too much skin before sighing. "It's awful. But we're already here and he's a doctor so skin doesn't scare him, it's fine. Let's just run in there as quickly as possible." My dad instructs me slowly, his brown eyes taking on a serious glaze.

"Please don't make me."

"Come on." He disregards my plea and opens the door. Biting my lower lip, I follow him. Standing up straight, I pull my skirt down but the further it reaches is just above my mid-thigh. I give him a small glare, tugging my shirt down to cover the skin it exposes before realizing there's no use.

I started this, now I need to see it through.

Tilting my chin up, I fix my hair and stand up straight, hoping to give off confidence I don't feel at this very moment. Placing one foot in front of the other, I follow my dad into the building with my head held high, the air conditioning hitting my skin and causing a furry of goosebumps.

I hear my dad talking to the receptionist who is currently peeking over the top of her glasses at me, chewing her gum obnoxiously. They mumble about a few more things before she hands my father a clipboard and he takes a seat, filling out the papers.

I warily sit next to him, careful to cross my legs so I don't flash the old woman across from me my underwear amongst other things.

When my name is called, I stand awkwardly and begin walking towards the smiling nurse, my ankle twisting for a moment causing me to stumble. I hear a snicker behind me and shoot the receptionist a glare, my cheeks burning.

"You ready, sweetie?" The nurse asks me, fighting a smile.

"Yes." I seethe with a fake smile, embarrassment eating me from the inside-out.

After having blood taken and peeing in a cup, my arm is sore and I have a horrible wedgie and yet I still feel as if there was no point to this visit. According to them, I'm perfectly fine. I just need to make sure I'm drinking enough water and then they warned me to stay away from soda and too much artificially sweetened beverages.

As I walk out of the building, I release a relieved sigh. "It's over." My dad chuckles at my words, his large hands squeezing my shoulders.

"Good job, kiddo." He pats my skin one last time before stepping in front of me. "Hey, why don't I walk across the street and grab us a couple of celebratory milkshakes to go?"

I smile at his thoughtfulness, ice cream sounding absolutely necessary right about now...and I secretly feel that he owes me. "Okay. I'll be in the car."

"Sounds good. I'll be right back." He grins, jogging away as I watch him, a sweet smile on my lips.

Walking to the car, I freeze, a feeling of dread fills me. "Dad!" I yell after him but he can't hear me. He's already reached the diner, his hand on the handle as he pulls it open, disappearing inside. "You forgot to give me the..." I yell before my voice lowers, "keys. Great." I hiss, kicking the car.

The alarm goes off loudly and I quickly step away, my eyes wide, before dashing off onto the sidewalk stiffly as I pray it magically turns off. No such luck.

I cross my arms over my exposed skin and begin walking down the sidewalk, the cars driving past staring curiously at the blinking car lights and then at the half naked girl suspiciously standing close to it. I awkwardly shuffle off further away and remind myself to return once I see my dad exiting the diner.

Walking down the road, I get several judgmental glances from middle aged men and woman, and a few sleazy smirks from some guys around my age, their head craning to the side as I pass. I close my eyes, cringing.

I've brought this upon myself. I remind myself.

Quickly ducking into the nearing building, the door rings loudly overhead as I push my way through the entryway. Looking around cautiously, I sigh with relief, my eyes locking onto the artsy paintings on the walls and my ears are pleasantly flooded with smooth music. I sniff subtlety, ground coffee filling my senses.

A small smile spreads over my lips, not minding the few glances I receive as I stand in the doorway. I heard about the coffee shop in town but I haven't actually had the motivation to leave the house and see it for myself. I like coffee but I wouldn't consider myself any sort of an enthusiast.

"Hi, welcome to Brickhouse." A voice calls from behind the counter. I sent a brief smile in that direction, not really knowing which employee to reply to.

Considering my slim options for a moment, I peek out the window for any sign of my dad but when I don't see him, I decide I'll just take a seat in here and wait him out.

After a couple minutes the air conditioning starts getting to me and my bare skin is practically crying. Heck, I'm crying for myself and my own stubborn pride. I just had to take a stand.

Leaning back in the booth, I cross my arms over my chest and blow a large breath through my cheeks. Taking my phone out, I check it for any messages from my dad and groan when I see none.

Me:
DAD!! HURRY UP! 911 YOU DIDN'T GIVE ME THE KEYS!

I rush to send the message, setting the iPhone face down on the wooden table as my fingers tap at it absentmindedly. When the door dings again, I don't think anything of it.

Until the employee at the counter greets the customer and I hear his response, "Hey thanks, Becca. It's good to be back. My usual please." His familiar voice causes my eyes to widen and I frantically cover the side of my face subtly with my right hand, my eyes squeezed shut.

Please don't see me, please don't see me, please don't see me.

When he walks up to the counter without detecting me, I breathe a sigh of pure relief, my eyes latching onto a large menu on the table and I silently praise the owner for being probably the only stand alone coffee shop ever to provide menus at the tables. My hands grasp at it hungrily, opening it and placing it in front of my face.

I can openly admit that I am hiding from Dakota. I can also admit that I'm a coward and my pride would be severely hurt if he saw me dressed like this. My ego would take a major hit if his first impression of me was a nerdy, frizzy haired, sweaty weirdo and now I'm here dressed like I could be in a girl version of Magic Mike. You can call me Magic Lillian at this point.

My eyes scan the menu to preoccupy myself, waiting for Dakota to grab his "usual" and get his butt out of here. I actually spot a few drinks that I would love to try and - get this - they even have pie.

I feel a weight shift in front of me, my legs crossed over tightly as I stiffen. Hearing a cup being set down, I close my eyes, pressing my lips together as I wait.

"Hello." He says casually. I can practically feel the flirty smirk from where I sit.

I raise my hand over the menu, moving my fingers in a small hello. Maybe he doesn't know it's me? I do have something covering my face after all. I earn a chuckle in response.

"I know that's you, Lillian." The smirk in his time grows immensely as I sigh in defeat and slowly lower the menu, avoiding eye contact. "I saw you when I came in."

"Hey, Dakota. What's up?" I respond slowly, folding my hands with an anxious squeeze.

I watch his eyes appraise me curiously and I'm pleasantly surprised when he's eyes don't go lower than my collar bone before gliding back up to my eyes. "I'm just coming for some coffee. The first cup I've had from here since we uh...almost died and all that." He laughs, picking up his white mug and taking a sip from what looks to be a latte, a leaf beautifully made in cream atop the brown liquid.

I release a light laugh, my shoulders relaxing slightly. "Yeah...that was a bit wild, huh?" My question raises his brows.

"Worse things could have happened." He says to me, his green eyes not leaving me as he nurses his hot beverage. He clears his throat, "Anyway, not that you don't usually look ravishing but I'm exceptionally curious as to why you've had a sudden...style change."

I bite my upper lip, laughing nervously, "You've only seen me in one outfit. What if I usually dress like this?" I ask him defiantly.

Dakota's green eyes sparkle with a strange sense of mischief. "Well I find that hard to believe but...I won't stop you."

I can't help but laugh at this, my cheeks reddening as I roll my eyes. "Okay you're right."

"Then what's the story? I have to know." He widens his arms.

I purse my lips, shaking my head at him. "It's nothing. I was just angry about a doctors appointment."

He gives me an odd look, his blonde hair sticking up at odd ends in a way that makes me believe he slept very late and this is the first place he came to when he woke up. "Well that literally makes no sense but I won't even ask."

"Thank you." I reply, my phone buzzing against the wood. Before I can make a grab for it, it's in Dakota's hands and he's reading the message.

"You're dad says he's by the car and wants to know where you are." He relays the message with furrows brows before looking at me oddly. "You left your dad out there?"

"No." I groan. "He went to get milkshakes - okay you know what, I don't have to explain to you. Give me my phone back, I have to go." I stand up, wobbling a little in my heels.

He watches me out of the corner of his eye and I think I spot an amused smile on his lips but before I can decide, he's typing something in and the action distracts me.

"Are you replying to my dad?" I gasp, making another desperate grab for my phone but have no luck.

He pushes his hand out to block me, his eyes on the phone. "Okay done." He gives me a crooked grin, "I told him you snuck away to meet me and you're coming back to my house with me." He wiggles his eyebrows.

My cheeks burn as I gasp at him, my lips opening and closing like a fish. "You what?"

He pauses, giving me a dead serious stare before releasing a chuckle, shaking his head calmly. "Nah I'm just kidding. I put my number in there but I wanted to raise your anger level so when I told you, you wouldn't be as mad." He shrugs, sipping his coffee and holding the phone out to me.

I look at it for a moment, feeling dumbfounded, before snatching it out of his hand and marching out of the coffee shop. As I make long strides to the car, avoiding eyes, I glance down at my phone.

Dakota (hot guy from elevator)

As if I would forget who he is. I shake my head with a small grin. "What a dork."