Ellen nodded, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans as she walked.
"It's ok, I get it," she murmured. "I'm sorry for messing around with it." She wanted to get away from him, was trying to think of a way of doing that without it appearing incredibly suspicious.
She'd never thought of herself as needy. Family was important - was everything - but even then, she could go days without speaking to her mom or dad while she was on the road.
Now, though. All she wanted was a hug from her dad. Not this Dean; the Dean 30-something years from now, the Dean with more scars and less hair, the one with a bad knee and a worse temper.
Tipping her head back, she blinked away phantom tears.
"God this is frustrating," she muttered, hoping she could cover up exactly why she was upset.