Skye rolled her eyes. Her father nagged her constantly. “Because I want to look good, Dad” She tells him. “I don’t want to look like a twelve year old.” Her father gave an unhappy sigh. “You look more like a clown.” He said as he walked into the other room. The layout of Skye's flat “Dad!” She exclaimed. She followed him into the living room, where he sat down in his chair. “It’s those bloody friends of yours.” He continued. “Always going to parties and drinking. You know in America you wouldn’t be allowed in a bar.” Skye sat on the armrest of her father’s chair. sement. She went down them.