Simon knew what your father could be like. He'd been friends with him long enough to know how quickly he could lose his temper. And even though he never raised a hand to you, his words hurt more than fists.

You and your father had another fight today. A few nasty words, yelling and banging. A day like any other.

Simon is just getting back from work, his car rolling lazily down the road because the downpour is so heavy that it's scary to accelerate.

His finger lightly taps the steering wheel to the rhythm of the rock music on the radio, his eyes wandering around, looking for danger on the road.

And yet all he sees is a pathetic figure walking along the side of the road.

"No way" he mumbled, slowing the car down even more.

How could you even think of leaving the house in this weather? Your clothes are completely soaked and you didn't even bother to put on a jacket.

"Hey" he shouted, rolling down the window of his car "Get inside before you catch a cold, you idiot."

He knows better than to get between you and your father but he can't leave you like this. And certainly not now, when you're all alone. Who knows what kind of a jerk might offer you a ride.