I looked at the door. Could it be Emma? Maybe she forgot her phone. No, Emma isn't like that. She is an organized person and rarely makes any mistake. Not to mention, the knock on the door did not sound anything like Emma. It was hard and forced unlike Emma which was soft and gentle. So who's at the door? I hesitated, thinking about leaving it alone. But the knocking got more persistent and rougher. Cautiously, I opened the door. Behind the door was a man. He was slightly taller than me, about 183 cm, and he was wearing black jeans and a white shirt with the picture of a beach on it. He had sunglasses on, which screamed suspicious, and he was smoking, the waft of it spreading throughout him and entering the house.
"Can I help you?" I keep the door halfway opened, my head poking out of the crack between the door.
"Hey. Um, is this where Noah Tucker lives?" he scratched his head as he read from a small note.
I froze. That's me. I don't remember seeing him anywhere and I'm sure I would recognize someone and sketchy as him. I hesitated and decided.
"Yeah but he's not home at the moment. Can I pass a message?" I lied, politely.
He stared me down. I can feel his eyes looking me up and down and I can tell he does not believe me. Despite that, I stick with my story, and play it cool. It's not a lie if you believe in it right? So I believe I'm not Noah Tucker.
After a few moment, he shrugged and said, " Okay, but if you do see him I want you to tell him that I've got information on the accident that happened 10 years ago."
I stood still, my face pale. The memories started flooding back, my mother's scream, the explosion and the heat.
"What do you know about the accident?" I practically shouted at him, the door fully open now.
"Sorry I can only tell him..." He brushed me off.
"I am Noah," I blurted out. It was probably not a good idea to expose myself this soon, but i was desperate about the information he has on the accident. "Tell me everything you know."
He pushed me aside and went in the house. Casually, he started to stroll into the kitchen, popped the fridge open and took a beer out. Then, he sat down on the dining table, taking a huge swig of the bottle before motioning me to sit beside him.
I stood there dumbfounded. "Excuse me?" I called out, unsure of what to do in this situation.
"Look kid, do you wanna know or not?" he looked at me expectantly.
He's got me trapped in his hands. With just those few words, I was in a conflicted position. Eventually, I gave in and sat opposite of him.
He took a final swig of the beer, tossed it in the bin before saying, "I'm your father."