A Short Story : A Story?

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Sneaking into her own house, well past her bedtime, Veronica sorely regretted sending her dad only one 'be home soon!' text, hours before. She knew she should've told him how late she was going to be, but that would've entailed telling him where she, in fact, was... Fondly, she remembered their old house, with it's two floors, and thick walls, and multitude of windows to shimmy into. Turning the doorknob to her actual house, with a soft click of her key, Veronica was in, still holding her breath. Maybe she could sneak off to bed, get some sleep- Like in the movies, Keith flicked on the lamp light next to him, waiting for her in his chair. From the time she sent the text, and the time she was sneaking in...he'd been waiting awhile. "This is unacceptable, Veronica." Hands clenched in his lap, Keith sighed. If Lianne were there, Keith imagined she would've whisked Veronica away to bed, explaining how teen girls sometimes lost track of time, and wasn't high school supposed to be about creating memories? Memories with certain boys, late at night, Keith wasn't sure he wanted his daughter to be out making. He'd called Logan, when he was out of town and worried about her, but Keith hoped that didn't tell the teen he was all clear. "I know that, I really do, but just this once, maybe the ends justify the means." Veronica sprung into damage control; seeing her father's 2 am weariness as something she could exploit. Especially after everything in San Diego,

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