My Bodyguard and I

I opened my eyes heavily and with a long yawn, I woke up to start getting ready for college. 

I took my time to look nice, as my hair seemed to have a life of its own and I didn't want to cooperate in getting it styled.

“Minerva, we're running late!”, I heard my father shout from downstairs.

“Just a moment, I'll be right down!,” I checked my bag to make sure I had everything I needed. Laptop, notebook and that sort of thing.

I ran down the stairs to meet the gaze of a man of about 5'10", his hair was black, his complexion was as fair as mine and his eyes were black, staring at me from the kitchen table.

“You're not planning to go to your last day of school like that, are you?.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“How so?.” I looked at my outfit. It was a black, tight black flannel, blue jeans and aqua green Vans shoes.

“That shirt is too tight and it shows a lot of what you have,” he folded his arms like a little boy. 

I gave him an ugly look and continued walking quietly until I reached the kitchen and placed my bag on the table, to take out a thermos of water that I always carried to class and also an apple which I began to bite.

“You take too long, you take after your mother,” he gave me a half-amused look and finished drinking his cup of coffee.

“I'm his daughter for a reason, don't you think?,” I knew I had answered him in a bad way, but he always told me that when I was running late. “Besides, I'm not late. It's just that the world gets ahead of itself.”

My father laughed at my comment and grabbed the car keys. 

I grabbed my things from the kitchen table and walked with him to the front door of the house. We both kissed a picture of my mom and made our way to the elevator. We lived in a high-rise penthouse, which had a beautiful view of the city.

My father, Horatio Finn, is one of the most important businessmen in the world today. 

Everyone is after him, although they always respect his privacy since the accident with my mother. She died in a car accident when I was 7 years old. 

All 3 of us were there, so my father and I, surviving we had to go to a lot of therapies and support each other all this time, for that reason, we are so close. He is my best friend. 

My name is Minerva Finn, I'm 19 years old and a freshman in college majoring in Mass Communications. My dream has always been to become the best and most well-known film and television editor... and to win an Oscar.

“This is my last day of school,” I said, being already inside the car with my father, who was putting on his Ray-Ban glasses and was about to start the car, in order to take me to the university.

“That's right.” he said with disinterest.

“Where are we going this summer?,” I said with a little more obviousness and enthusiasm. 

Every year after my mother died, my father would take me on his trips around the world, visiting all the corporations he owned in various countries to see how things were going. 

It always took him about 3 months, which is how much vacation time I got every summer.

“About that, daughter, I don't know if we'll be able to go on the trip this year,” said my father with a bit of disappointment.

“What? Why?.” My voice sounded a little sadder than I wanted it to, as my father turned to look at me for a moment as he approached my university.

“There have been some minor problems in several facilities and I must go, the problem is that I don't think you can go, princess.” He wouldn't take his eyes off the track, but every once in a while he turned to look at me.

“But Dad, you're the boss, you can do as you please!” Although I sounded like a spoiled immature self, I was right. He's the owner of all those companies, why couldn't he take me? 

My father sighed and parked in front of my college. I looked out the window and saw all my classmates and many other people. I had no idea who they were.

“It's not that easy, Minerva. There is a policy I have to follow as the boss and this time, there is much more observation I have to do to those facilities so having you there will be a little distracting for everyone and for me and also you will be bored because I will always be in meetings and we won't be able to go out as we always do,” my father put a hand on mine and shook it gently. “I'm so sorry honey, I know these trips are important for both of us.”

I averted my gaze to the window and took a deep breath to hold back the tears that wanted to spill out of my eyes at any moment. 

I rushed over to my father, gave him a kiss on the cheek and said goodbye with an "I love you". I got out of the car as fast as I could and closed the door before I heard what my father was saying to me. I crossed the street carefully and prepared to enter the college.

“It's not worth getting sad about this, Minerva.”

Although, well, it would be the first summer after 12 years of spending it together, as Father and daughter. 

This summer was not going to be the same as the previous ones, it would be boring and monotonous. I would be alone every day. But on second thought, I could have parties and I could invite my friends to stay over, a kind of sleepover and those kinds of things I never had the chance to do.

I smiled and started greeting everyone I met. 

One of the things my mother always told me was to be nice to everyone and so I was. You would think that since I was the daughter of an important businessman and therefore had money and a big penthouse in one of the most expensive buildings in the city, I would be the most superficial person on planet earth. 

Well, no, I was the opposite of the American prototype shown in series and movies.

I liked to be more humble with people, to help them in any way I could, to be there for those people who always needed a friend. I am the kind of person who would rather see someone else laugh, even if I am heartbroken and dying drowning in my feelings and emotions.

“Hey, Mine!” I heard a familiar female voice behind me. I turned around and saw my friend Isabella. 

She was short, although she had a nice body. Her honey-colored eyes and brown hair made her look very innocent, although I knew perfectly well that she was not like that.

“Hello, Isabella! It's been a long time since I've seen you.” I said enthusiastically and hugged her as if I hadn't seen her for many years.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Yesterday we met and I told you not to call me that.” Even though I knew perfectly well that she didn't like me calling her that. Besides, I don't like to call her like most people do.

“It's okay, I'm sorry. I won'