Authors Note: I wrote this as a memoir for English, I don't know if you could call it that. To me it seems more like a part of a story, but I turned it in anyway. I haven't gotten the grade for it yet, but I hope it's a good one. Please read and tell me what you think. THANK YOU! J

The Truth Hurts

'Wow this is awkward' I thought as I stare blankly out the window. The cars moving by quickly as we speed down I-45. The only sound is the sad country song playing in the background on 100.3 KILT. Every now and then my dad will clear his throat, as if to say something, only accompanied by a sigh.
'Is this how it's going to be everytime I come up here, complete silence?' I mentally ask myself.
" school?" my dad asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Ok, I guess, nothing that special. It sucks to tell you the truth." I grimace at the thought of school, I hate the 7th grade. I turn in my seat to face him, thinking the ride might not be so bad after all.
"Don't let your mom hear you talk like that, she'll think I'm a bad influence." He laughs and so do I. Just when I get the courage to say something else his cell phone rings. I can feel my heart shrink. I block out the conversation he's having with whoever and return my gaze to the swiftly moving world outside.
When did this happen? When did sitting in a car with my own father feel so uncomfortable? When did he become a stranger? I can still remember when we use to have so much fun together. Going out on our "adventures" as he called them. We use to go out to eat, visit some of his old friends or just drive around without that awkward silence there to ruin everything. I use to enjoy myself. I use to look forward to the time spent with my dad, now I dread it. It's a horrible thing to say, but that's how I feel. Ever since my parents got a divorce, things were never the same between us. I wish we could be like my stepsister and stepdad. They're always laughing and having fun. I mean of course he gets after her every now and then, but I don't even say that much to my dad to even make him mad! What kind of father-daughter relationship is that?! At least he tries though. I don't even make an effort to talk to him, it's my fault everything's the way it is, at least that's how I see it. I blink, trying to hold back tears threatening to fall and I hold in the feeling I get everytime I think about how things can't go back to the way they were.
I sigh as we turn down the familiar highway toward his house, we're almost there.
"You want a coke?" he asks as we pull into an Exxon stattion.
"Sure." I simply reply as he parks the truck and gets out.
I thought maybe this time could be different, no, I wanted it to be different. I had so much to tell him about, to give him a chance to see how my life was going, but as usual I shut him out. Flatly replying to any of his questions. My intentions were good when I called and asked if he'd like me to come up to his house this weekend. Now I regret it seeing as were both miserable sitting here acting like were both happy to see eachother, or at least I am. This ride to his house has stood out to me the most because it's where I finally realized things between my father and I have changed, and will never be the same again.