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As the broadcast reverberated through the airwaves, the two youngsters grappling on the verdant lawn
found themselves abruptly at a standstill.
The chubby lad, seated on the grass, appeared taken aback and bewildered. Could it truly be the
case? Did this lad genuinely have a dad?
Melon, as well, remained in a state of astonishment, surmising that perhaps there was another boy at
this summer camp who bore the same name and surname as himself. It took him a moment to connect
the dots.
Upon finally snapping out of his reverie, his blood still simmering with the fury ignited by the boy’s
previous utterances, he lunged at him once more, tugging fiercely at his sleeve while demanding,
“Apologize! You’ve yet to extend your apologies to me!”
By now, fellow campers had rushed to summon the camp counselor. She swiftly approached the scene,
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇttaken aback to find the two juveniles embroiled in a tussle. Without hesitation, she intervened,
separating them, and inquired, “What’s the fracas all about? Why are you two fighting?”
Seeing the counselor’s approach, the chubby boy promptly scrambled to his feet, dusting off his
trousers, and expeditiously laid forth a grievance, “He was the one who launched a sudden assault on
me!”
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“No, you’re the one who insulted me!” retorted Melon, his face flush with ire.
“He said I’m fatherless and resorted to calling me a bastard with a dead dad.”
At this juncture, a timid young girl who had summoned the counselor timidly said, “He started by
insulting Max first. We all heard it.”
The counselor furrowed her brow upon hearing such harsh language, wondering where these
youngsters had picked up such phrases. She chastised the boy, stating, “You mustn’t hurl insults at
your fellow campers; your words were exceedingly harsh.”
After admonishing the chubby boy, the counselor instructed him to extend an apology to Melon.
Hearing the apology, Melon reluctantly conceded that his resorting to physical altercations had been
unwarranted.
With the matter between the two youngsters resolved, the counselor turned to Melon and said, “Your
father awaits you in the lecture hall. Come along; I shall escort you there.”
Melon stood rooted to the spot, utterly bewildered.
Had that broadcast just moments ago truly been targeting him? Had his Daddy really come?
He felt incredulous, a whirlwind of confusion and excitement coursing through his veins. He promptly
followed the counselor to the lecture hall.
Entering the hall, Melon saw a man in a leather jacket seated by the window.
Melon was dumbstruck; this individual bore an uncanny resemblance to the Dad depicted in the
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmphotograph!
The appearance of his father, an individual he had never laid eyes on before, was just as sudden.
Melon found himself overwhelmed with a heady mix of exhilaration and hesitancy. He stood immobile,
unsure of how to proceed.
Startled by a noise, Holden turned his head and immediately caught sight of Melon. The boy’s face was
marked with dirt and bore visible blemishes from their earlier scuffle. He instinctively furrowed his brow
and quickly advanced, stooping down.
“What happened? Did someone mistreat you?”
Melon regarded him with an intense gaze, foregoing his inquiry, and instead posed a query of his own,
“Are you truly my father?”
Holden chuckled warmly and tousled Melon’s hair.
“Any doubts, my boy?
Didn’t you express a desire to meet me when we conversed on the phone?”
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