Personal Narrative

I saw my best friend Betsy walking cautiously over to me after school ended. We meet at the top of the big concrete stairs leading up to our basic New York private school. Betsy has her hands up by her mouth, probably biting her fingers, which I always tell her is gross and she's going to get sick. I start our conversation the same as it has been for the last month, "What time is your mom going to pick us up?"
Betsy pauses for a second, "Liz, I am sorry, but my mom thinks it's best if you stay at your own house tonight." I feel tears start to form in my eyes. Of course Betsy's mom wants me to stay at my house, she is a family therapist and thinks 'talking it out' solves every problem. I look at Betsy and she's looking at me with pity in her kind,

I press the elevator button and wait for it to make a little dining noise. I walked in and stand inside and wait longer. The doors opened at the sixth floor, I took a deep breath and walked to my home.
I knocked three times, "Do I have to answer or is it not important," I heard my dad say.
I don't say anything, so he comes and swings open the heavy, wooden door.
"Oh! Elizabeth hi." He exclaimed when he realized it was me. He quickly starts talking, trying to ignore the fact that I hadn't spoken to him for a month. He asked about school and friends and what I want for dinner, but I did not answer. I still had not forgiven him for letting my best friend leave. He let my mom go, didn't chase after her or anything. How can I forgive that?
"Should we have tacos and maybe even some ice cream for dessert?" My dad wondered
I needed to see why, how, the reason he let her go. "I do not care about tacos or ice cream or whatever!" I said raising my voice. "I care about my mom, unlike