Chocolate Cake | Teen Ink

Chocolate Cake

September 10, 2011
By Libra97 PLATINUM, Salem, Oregon
More by this author
Libra97 PLATINUM, Salem, Oregon
34 articles 0 photos 45 comments

“We’re getting a divorce.”

I felt like I had just dove into a pool in early spring. My whole body froze eyes wide, mouth agape. I swear my heart even stopped beating as the words knifed through me, understanding seeping into my half stunned mind. Divorce? How could it be? Divorce happened to dysfunctional families who went to see counselors, not perfect families like mine. At least, perfect until now.

“Can we ride the ponies?” I looked over at my four year old sister, Alyssa, whose big, brown eyes stared at Mom in great anticipation, as her swinging legs hit against the tan couch with a dull thump. Her thin, light brown ponytail moved slightly with each bump and I had never hated my parents more than at that moment. How could they do this to her? She was so young and innocent. Alyssa wouldn’t know anything was wrong until she realized Dad wasn’t around.

“Of course, sweetie,” Mom replied, her voice wavering at first, “In fact, Jen used to ride all the time,” she turned to me, her fake smile huge. It looked strange with her lips grinning, but her eyes were only wells of anguish, “Remember?”

Scenes of dry grass being rhythmically pounded by hooves flashed through my mind. I had been born in Texas and we had lived with my grandmother until I was four. Ever since I was young, I had loved horses. On Sunday afternoons, we would go riding around the ranch as a family. “Family.” I almost winced at the word. For me, family would never be the same again.

“Yeah, why?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.

“Well honey, we girls will be going to live with your grandmother for awhile.”

Grandma! I hadn’t seen her in years. What about my friends, will they even remember me? And Andrew, I had finally gotten him to go out with me. The thought of another girl just holding his hand angered me almost beyond control. Thousands of scattered thoughts swirled around me like leaves on a windy fall day. Suddenly, a sickening glimmer trumped them all

“What about Christian?” I asked horrified. If Christian wasn’t coming, I didn’t think I would make it. Even though he’s younger than me, we talk about everything together. If I need help, I go to him and if he needs advice, he comes to me. Ever since I could remember, my brother had always been by my side, how could I live without him?

“He’s decided to stay with your father until he gets his license. It’s not that long to wait, sweetheart.”

I turned to my left for verification. Christian quickly stared down at the floor, and it was all the proof I needed. Three years. How could she say three years was not that long! When did she start making decisions for me? What if I didn’t want to go to Texas? Could she really make me? This time a torrent of anger spun the tornado of thoughts tearing through my mind. I got up and walked swiftly to the stairs. When I got to the base, I turned around and glared at Mom, then, I walked firmly up the steps to my room, making sure to slam the door behind me. I flopped down on my bed and stared up at the cracked ceiling. How similar my life had just become to it, crumbling and broken. This summer I had been planning to paint over the cracks, but not anymore. I lay there for awhile just thinking about how much my parents had ruined my life, how many cracks they had put in it.


Knock, knock. A soft tap cut through the grogginess that enshrouded me as
I woke up. Rolling onto my side, I decided to ignore it. Creak. The door opened anyway.

“Jen? Jen? Are you alright?” Christian’s soft, anxious voice snuck into my ear despite my attempts to lock it out. I shrugged in response.

“I’m really sorry, Jen, but Dad’s helpless in a kitchen and he’ll need a lot of help getting back on his feet. If we all left, I think he’d lose it.”

The despondent face Dad had worn at the family meeting filtered to the front of my mind. Christian was right, but I still didn’t have to be happy about it.

“But I won’t be able to see you.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll text and e-mail and call. It’ll all work out.”

He looked like he was saying it more to himself than to me.

“It won’t be the same, Christian.”

“Well, change isn’t always bad,” he replied, forcing a smile. My brother, ever the optimist, even when our lives had just been shattered like slipping crystal.

“How did you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“You had already decided to stay with Dad, which means you must have known about the divorce before us.”

“They talked to me last night,” he responded, almost mumbling, “Mom wanted to know ahead of time so she could announce the move to you two.”

“Why hadn’t she asked me?” I thought, sudden frustration compiling inside me.

“Jen, are you okay?” I guess the buildup had been apparent.

“Why didn’t they ask me?” I half whined my internal dilemma.

“Probably because they need you in Texas.”

“Need me?”

“Yeah, Alyssa’s going to need a big sister to look up to and play with. I guess they can’t force you to go, but it would be best.”

Alyssa. Why hadn’t I thought of her before? Once more Christian was right. Mom would be away working and Alyssa would probably be lonely enough without Christian.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

“With a smile?”

“Now you’re pushing it.”

We both laughed weakly.

“Oh yeah, Mom wants to know if you’re coming down for dinner.”

Ugh. The mere thought of her with that huge fake smile made me sick. It was obvious she had been the one to initiate the divorce. Weren’t there usually signs before this? They had never fought or anything like that. With my mom being a lawyer and my dad running a construction business they didn’t see each other that often, but when they did they seemed fine.

“I’m not hungry,” I replied, rolling back onto my side.

“Okay, but Mom wants to talk to you later.”

Great. I sighed and faked a yawn.

“I’m really tired, Christian, and you need to get something to eat, alright?”

“Yeah, see you later.” I turned around just in time to see his silhouette leave, gently closing the door behind him.


“Honey?” A hand still warm from washing dishes shook me gently as a small stream of light slipped in from the now opened door. A different silhouette could be seen out of the corner of my eye, and I pretended I was still deep in dreamland in hopes that it would go away. It didn’t work. “Honey,” Mom sighed in slight exasperation, “I know this might be frustrating for you, but-

“Might? Might!?” I suddenly exploded, unable to hold back my confusion and anger any longer as it rolled through me, blinding me to any sensible arguments to remain civil. A pillow, catapulted off the bed by my sudden rush, hit her arm as if to show my displeasure at her attempt at comfort as it shooed her hand off my arm. Her half bored sigh showing the predictability of my response only fueled the storm twisting in my mind, egging me on. “You go and drop a bombshell like that on me and you think I might, just might be the tiniest bit frustrated!” I shouted incredulously at the woman in front of me, biting at her lip in a frustrated look of her own. “No,” I continued, “I’m not just frustrated, let’s try confused, infuriated, betrayed, ruined, bitter, annoyed, hysteric…” The instigating anger that had fueled my fight had been drained; leaving me slumped against the wall as I tried to think of any more synonyms to describe the indescribable loss that seemed to have zapped me of my very spirit. Mom tried to reach out again, but I did come to my senses enough to flinch away at her movement. She let out a long sigh and we waited in silence for awhile, though I wasn’t quite sure what we were waiting for. Eventually, she raised her gaze from the carpet and spoke, breaking me of my own hypnotic trance.

“Tomorrow will be your last day of school,” she said rather cooly, as if she was simply speaking with one of her many clients over how she would be working the proceedings of court. She turned and left the room without looking at me, leaving my mind to process what she had just said, and more importantly, my heart to break at the indifference of her manner. I stared up at my ceiling once again. Yes, I thought, my life certainly had more cracks than I had imagined.

The author's comments:
I do not own the songs Break Away or I'm Only Happy When It Rains.

“Grew up in a small town, and when the rain would fall down, I’d- I turned my alarm off and lazily opened one eye to see the time. 12:00? The robotic numbers flashed as I tried to use my still sleeping brain to make sense of it. A clap of distant thunder broke me from my reverie, and woke up my reasoning. Of course! The power had gone out, leaving me to wonder how long the storm had been grumbling for. I rolled out of bed and made my way to the window, gazing eagerly out it to watch the raindrops burst into wet fireworks displays. I smiled to myself a bit bashfully, I knew it was childish, but at the moment, I didn’t care. If it made me happy, I was going to do it, especially after what happened last night. I groaned and tried to distract myself as “I’m Only Happy When It Rains” popped in my head. Opening my drawer to retrieve my white capris, I heard heeled footsteps coming up the stairs to my room. I rolled my eyes, wondering how my workaholic mom had suddenly become Mrs. Family First literally over night.

“Darling, are you up?”
Another pet peeve of mine: why couldn’t she just call me Jen like everyone else? Even Jennifer would have been fine, but she seemed to want to make up lost time by pretending we had a close bond or something. I didn’t respond.
“Are you alright sweetheart?”
I kept the stiff tension that had seeped through the door between us, and a challenging silence hung in the air, daring one of us to break it. Eventually I heard a barely audible sigh.
“I’m going to work now, have a good day sweetie.”
I rolled my eyes again, this time in disgust, as the tired clomping of retreating footsteps echoed up to me. I couldn’t believe she had said that to me, especially after the bombshell she had just dropped on me. It was like rubbing salt in a wound, and it stung. All this time, she could have said that, but she had always been too busy. Now that I was about to be uprooted from the only home I’d ever known, and might I add, because of her, she was now all into my life. I grabbed my green shirt along with a blue undershirt and roughly threw them on; making my way to the bathroom. Even after I had finished putting on my makeup and straightening my hair, I stayed standing in front of the mirror, not wanting to face life. I felt as though as long as I remained here in my cave, I could pretend today was just another June morning. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring through my reflection, but a subtle knock at the door brought me crashing back to reality.
“Jen? Um, it’s time to go. You are taking us to school, right?” I sighed, almost amused. Christian was always so cautious, so gentle.
“Yeah, be right out!” I called in response. Taking one last look at myself, I sighed. Today was going to be a very long day.

“Good morning, Jen,” greeted Mr. Redding, my history teacher.
“Good morning,” I replied, a bit dazed by his unusually perky manner. Typically, he was very professional and businesslike. I had been bracing for the usual “I hope you have a pass, Jennifer.” and then a thought hit me. Did he know it was my last day? My musings were interrupted by a stack of papers. Joey was looking back over his shoulder waving them at me.
“Hey, Jen, you awake?” he whispered loudly.
“Yeah,” I whispered in return. I went to take one before passing them on to the girl behind me when I was stopped by Mr. Redding.
“Jen, you won’t be needing one.”
Sandy, a spoiled girl who thought she was some sort of miracle to the world, spoke up.
“Why doesn’t she have to do homework?” She questioned in that snotty way of hers, being sure to emphasize “she”. It was no secret she was jealous of my dating Andrew. After all, he was the most popular guy in school and she hated my guts for him choosing me over her. I smiled smugly at her to rub it in more, as everyone knew the only thing she did was plot about how to make my life miserable. She responded with a huffy glare that immediately fell into a self-satisfied grin at Mr. Redding’s next words.
“Jennifer, um,” he looked at me as if asking for permission and I nodded slightly. At least it would save me from having to find some way to break the news to Toni. “Today is her last day of school,” he finished; some gasps and an excited squeal from some of the girls in Sandy’s clique met his announcement. My eyes flitted over to Andrew to offer him an assuring smile, when I noticed the look on his face, which looked suspiciously like relief. My face was now contorted in confusion when our eyes locked, and a brief cloud of panic passed over him before a mask of sadness and confusion appeared, but the residue of his previous expression could be still be seen at the edges. I shot him a look of “I’ll explain everything later”, hoping that I had imagined his initial display of happiness.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I told you, I didn’t know until Mom decided to drop this on me last night.”
I sat at the empty-looking lunch table as Toni and I discussed the scene in history over school pizza and orange juice.
“Well,” she added, nodding her spiky pink and black hair for emphasis, “at least she didn’t do what Robin’s mom did. Can you imagine being pulled right out of class to head off to some unknown destination, then told you’ll never see your dad again?”
She did have a point, but it didn’t make my current situation any less pleasant.
“And you can drive, so you’ll be able to come up here as often as possible.”
I looked at her incredulously. “We’re going to Texas, that’s on the other side of the country!?”
“Okay, you do have a point there, but I guess I just feel bad for your dad, I mean to get dumped like that has got to hurt.”
I nodded. “Yeah, he’s taking it pretty hard. He’s just so sullen now. I can’t believe that just a few days ago we were all playing football and laughing together.” I sighed, suddenly depressed, “I haven’t heard anyone laugh since her ‘family meeting’”
“Even Alyssa?”
“I know, right? She even seems a little less perky.”
“Well, at least try to cheer up a bit, it’s your last day, and I don’t want you walking around like some sort of corpse,” she joked. “Besides, this is what texting was invented for.”
I smiled weakly. Toni was right, and I suddenly felt so happy that I at least had her. We had both come a long way from the kindergarten day when she had punched the third grade boy who had been picking on my lunch box. Ever since then we had been best friends and she was right. Miles couldn’t change the sisterly bond between us that petty arguments and silly “adventures” had formed. Shortly after the bell rang, ushering me closer to the distance that would inevitably be put between us.

“And don’t forget about your stargazing project!” Miss Quinn called after us as the final bell rang, much to everyone else’s elation and my dismay. I walked almost as if in a dream to my locker, ambling slowly and taking in all the details of the journey I had taken so many times before. I smiled as I saw everyone rushing down the halls, texting plans for the weekend and calling out to friends as I had done, never taking the time to step back and observe the mayhem I had been a part of. Flashes of silver hoop earrings harmonized with pink hair and lime green high-tops, and checkered bags wove between the flood of escapees. In the end, I spent so much time taking in the chipped cream walls and lingering scent of that day’s grilled cheese that I was one of the last ones to reach their lockers. It was now calm, and only the faint murmur of teachers’ conversations, accentuated by Mrs. Ballistano’s sharp laughter, could be heard mixing almost pleasantly with the clicks of the stragglers’ lockers. As I moved to enter my combo and begin the final emptying of the locker, I turned around and saw an obviously frantic young man between shards of light brown hair, seemingly stuck in my mascara filmed eyelashes.
“Andrew?” His blue eyes glanced up to meet my hazel green ones, then busied himself with his lock as if the moment had been a figment of my imagination. Odd, I had a feeling he had been avoiding me all day, especially since I hadn’t been able to find him anywhere at lunch, and now this. “Andrew,” I began again, walking over to him, “I’ve been meaning to speak to you, about the move.” I added on formally, his deer-in-the-headlights expression bewildering me. He kept fiddling with his lock.
“Andrew!” I demanded, pulling his hand off the lock and turning him to face me. His curly dark hair looked as frazzled as the rest of him, before he shot his gaze to the ground and became suddenly interested in the marbled flooring. “What is going on with you?” I half shouted, looking at him curiously. What on earth had gotten into him? He remained mute. “Andrew, why have you been avoiding me?” I spelled out, adopting my mother’s commanding yet business-like tone. He mumbled something inaudible and turned to go back to his locker when I whispered to him imploringly, “What happened?”
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
I looked at him as if I had been slapped in the face. That was the last thing I had been expecting him to say. I mean, I knew I would be moving, but that was no reason to end our relationship. I could still come and visit, and as Toni had suggested, there was still texting. Why did he feel it would have to come to end just because I moved? We only had one year left, and then we could still go to the same college and pretend the year hiatus had never happened.
“Are you breaking up with me?” It slipped out before I realized how dumb and needy it sounded, but my brain had been occupied with the flood of confusion and creeping sense of betrayal as I tried to make sense of why he would want to end it so quickly.
He returned is eyes to the ground before audibly taking a breath and facing me again, his cocky, athletic sureness taking over again, and I couldn’t help but wonder how many other girls he had given that look to before confirming their worst fear.
“Sorry Jen, but it’s best this way, you know, make a clean break. Besides, you’d be in Texas and Sandy agrees too.” Then his face contorted into a look of horror as he processed what he’d just said, and my mouth dropped open, jaw hitting the floor. “I mean, um, it’s not what it seems, I’ll, um, well I, um…” He stammered, desperately trying to form any intelligent thought to save himself.
“Sandy?” I finally managed. “Sandy?! Have you been going out on the side with her and finally decided to give me the honor of knowing?!” I could the feel the rage building up inside me, bubbling under the pressure of heart break. “So you wanted to make a ‘clean break’ of it. Uh, huh, why did I ever trust you before anyway?” I continued, ranting on, spewing random comments in my hurt and disgust. I felt like I was having a repeat of the argument last night, only the face I was yelling at was different. I didn’t care if any teachers’ heard, and I actually didn’t see any in the hallway anymore. They all must have retreated to their rooms, I thought smugly, and I could subconsciously feel it show in my glare. At least Mom had given me plenty of practice with those.
“Listen Jen, I think you’re over reacting.” Now the arrogant annoyance I knew would be returning showed up as he dramatically rolled his eyes and sighed when I shouted my next accusation at him.
“I shouldn’t have even gone out with you in the first place! All you are is a rotten idiot who seems can’t live without ruining peoples’ lives any more than the actually are. I may have to put up with a mother who decides her life is a million times more important than mine, but I don’t have to put up with you and your insolent little smirks. So you know what? I’m breaking up with you!” I turned sharply on my heel and strode off, nose in the air, deciding for myself that he wasn’t even worth one of my signature glares.
When I reached my car I slammed the door and sped all the way home. I dared someone to pull me over, but much to my disappointment no one did, leaving me to vent my frustration on my footsteps once I got home. Christian was already sitting at the kitchen table, taking in peanut butter crackers and math problems, just for the fun of it, when he heard my less than graceful entrance.
“Hey Jen, you alr-
“Shut up!” I snarled venomously and crashed my way to my room, dropping myself unceremoniously on the ground as I felt tears replace the bit of strength I had retained.
They say that at the end of your life, the good and the bad equal out, but something atomically amazing was going to have to happen in order to cancel out these last two days.

I staggered out into the brightly lit living room and was instantly blinded. Groggily groaning, I wondered why on earth Mom had dragged me out of my soft, cozy bed at this ungodly hour, but then I remembered, because she’s Mom and she can single-handedly ruin my life whenever she feels like it.

“Good morning! And how would my darling be today?”


“I’m not two,” I muttered, breaking my vow of silence. It was worth it when I saw Mom’s hurt expression.

“Does that mean I can’t say good morning to my own daughter anymore?”

“Preferably, yeah,” I responded frankly, not wanting to have to put up with her more than I had to. After all, I had a lovely twenty-four hour drive, including four nights in hotels, to look forward to. I pushed past her into the kitchen, where Christian sat at the same place he had been yesterday afternoon, this time with a cup of hot tea and the newspaper. I realized he had put a mug of hot water on the counter and already had a tea bag steeping in it. Grinning despite myself, I twirled the bag around a bit, watching the color seep into the steamy clearness before the familiar tint was reached. Lifting the warm mug to enjoy the soothing drink, I buried my nose in the steam and let myself get lost in the peppermint, savoring the comforting fantasy before I would have to return to my sad reality. I slipped a smile to Christian, who managed to return one before burying himself in his politics again, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So, buttercup, are you packed?”

I bristled at the pet name and her sweet tone. Didn’t she understand the concept of body language? I obviously didn’t want to talk, and yet she kept pushing it. Why couldn’t she take a hint and leave me alone? I mumbled something under my breath to tease her.

“Honey, please speak up when you talk to me, you know I can’t hear you when you mutter like that. Honestly, how many times have I told you that good diction is the key to success!” she responded, overly cheery. Ah, mom the lawyer. Ever since we were kids she made us join speech and debate and give speeches whenever possible. I eventually got out after a huge blow-up over the subject, which was actually the first argument I had ever won, and Mom never bugged me about it again, though she did tend to make comments about proper “talking technique” from time to time. I huffed at her, frustrated. Why wouldn’t she just get angry and yell at me so I’d have an excuse for an argument now?

“This isn’t speech class,” I mumbled again, before rolling my eyes and heading back to my room to get my suitcase. I heard Mom’s exasperated tone aimed at Christian, but knew she was only talking about me to him, not actually yelling at him. She never did that. Even though I loved my brother, I had to admit I sometimes envied their easy going, comforting relationship.

As soon as I entered my room, a pair of eyes, a size too big for the head they were set in, greeted me.

“Can I bring my bathing suit?” She asked innocently, but the scene around her, like a rock sitting in the middle of a raging river, betrayed a different story. Swirls of shirts dyed the plain beige carpet, accented by the erupting mountain of socks that had dribbled off the bed. An eccentric orange hat, wrapped in my favorite purple scarf, perched on her head like an exotic bird, surrounded by its own precarious feathers. Shoes littered the room atop pillows, survivors of the sinking storm. The drawers, empty from the raid, now drooped in exhaustion. I picked up a sky blue scarf by her leg and held it, a bit stunned.

“Uh huh,” was all I responded with, until I snapped to my senses. “After you turn the state of emergency inhabitable again.”

She obviously didn’t understand what I meant by the way she cocked her head, gazing up at me uncomprehendingly. The weary ornament finally fell with the movement, and collapsed the bright colors on my foot. I sighed, “You’ll have to clean up my room first,” I translated, hoping she would understand.

“But I didn’t do it,” she responded, her already huge eyes growing in fake astonishment.

“Really!” I exclaimed, playing along, “Then I suppose we’ll have to find who did. Did you see anyone come in here?”

She sat for a moment, thinking, until she finally nodded, echoing me, “Uh huh, a glotberg came.”

“My, my! A glotberg you say! What did it look like?”

Alyssa grinned adorably, then rushing to my bookshelf, she pulled off the dictionary Mom required me to have. Racing back to me, she held the book up, stirring a multitude of socks and scarves in her wake.

“Ah, what a smart little girl you are! We’ll have to look it up.” I flipped seriously through the ink scarred pages, watching Alyssa’s vain attempt not to giggle. “Here it is!” I called triumphantly. Clearly my throat dramatically, I began to read. “Glotberg, noun, of the Montgomerian word ‘cotderk’ meaning messer of rooms. A rare bird like creature found chiefly in Canada, yet known to wander farther south into the northern United States for summer. Most often characterized by its orange coat and purple beak, eyes often vary between dull brown to hot pink.” I glanced up to see Alyssa, very much caught up in my performance, nodding along eagerly.

“Its eyes were pink!” she added enthusiastically.

“Ah, it must have been a glotberg then! But wait, what is this?” I frowned wrinkling my brow just enough to ignite a fresh burst of giggles. “However, glotbergs have also been known to take on the form of little brown haired, brown eyed girls named Alyssa. If this occurs, the only method to emit the glotberg is through,” I paused, as if in astonishment, “tickling.”

Alyssa’s eyes went big and she started to back up as I put the book down and strode toward her slowly. I now raced forward, causing her to squeal and attempt to dive through my door to escape, but I grabbed her just in time and tickled her belly and feet. Alyssa couldn’t stop laughing and soon our burst of happiness was ringing through the hallway and skipping through the house. Finally, I stopped and Alyssa grinned before looking down ashamedly.

“I was looking for a coat but I couldn’t find one. I’m sorry.” She raised her eyes slightly and I laughed a bit weakly.

“Come on, my little glotberg, we’ve got some cleaning to do.”

I pulled her up and we set to work rearranging the room and clearing up the shoes, but as I worked, the fact that this could very well be the last time I ever set foot in this room weighed down on me once more. All my worries, angers, and troubles had been washed away by Alyssa’s mishap, but now they had returned, and I found it much harder to smile. Part of me wanted to stay in this moment forever, but I knew that could never happen. After all, the present had the silliest habit of becoming the past. As we stood to leave, Alyssa clutched my hand and looked up at me, the eyes I knew so well now encouraging me to move on. I smiled sadly and turned to survey the only room I had ever had. Now suitcase in hand, I knew that everything would never be the same again. Thanks for the memories, was the only sentiment I had to offer as I turned off the lights, flicking the switch one last time.



“Well, I guess that’s everything.”
A lose strand of Mom’s dark hair fell, defeated, out of her strict ponytail. Hands on hips, Mom stared at the now stuffed trunk filled with our belongings. I slammed the protesting top down, breaking the vision of our success heavily. I looked up at the porch, from which Dad and Christian had observed the struggle. Sighing, I frowned, remembering Mom’s insistence that we do everything ourselves:
“Honey, are you alright? How about we give you a hand.” Dad moved forward, Christian right behind, to help Mom with the bloated suitcase that was obviously too big for her to handle.
“Don’t you “honey” me,” she growled under her breath, the first apparent sign of the battle that had been going on unbeknownst to us for so long. “We’ll be just fine. How about you go sit on the porch and not care. You’re pretty good at that.” I had barely heard the last part, it had been so choked with anger, frustration, even betrayal? It had scared me when I had heard my usually cool business mother sound like, well, as much as I hated to admit it, me. Her retort sounded exactly like something I would say to her, and I almost felt like shouting that she wasn’t allowed to do that. She was my mother for goodness sake, only a teenage girl should say something like that!
“Please, Sam, not in front of the kids,” hissed Dad.
Mom rolled her eyes before dragging the luggage to the car and heaving it into the trunk. Dad moved to help her, but Mom just glared at him.
“I’m serious, Dave, the porch. Now.” She muttered so hostilely I almost jumped back as well. Dad staggered a couple of steps; physically wounded by Mom’s harsh words. He recovered quickly enough when Alyssa and Christian came in view though. Dad threw his arm across Christian’s shoulders and whispered something to him, before exploding into laughter. Mom rolled her eyes and flipped the same rogue hair out of her eyes.
“Come on Jen, this baggage isn’t going to load itself.”
Christian was laughing too, but I knew it was fake. He always seemed so sad nowadays, sweet, but sad. It was then my attention was shocked back to Mom by her use of my actual name. I couldn’t believe it and was pretty sure my ears were just letting me hear what I wanted, but Mom smiled at me knowingly and I smiled back. Before abruptly frowning, there was obviously more than one war going on here, but if Mom had to take it on two fronts, I certainly wouldn’t be the one to surrender. Stomping off to retrieve my luggage, I ignored the tired sigh that haunted my steps.

A sudden squeeze returned me to the present.
“I’m gonna miss you so much!” Toni exclaimed in my ear before stepping back. Her hands still clutching my shoulders, she forced eye contact before continuing. “You will text me as soon as you get there, right?”
“Of course, Toni, what did you expect me to do? I’ll be texting you the whole time down too.”
“Good. I just don’t want you to leave me for one of your new to be southern belle friends.”
“Are you kidding me? They’ll take one look at me and think I’m some bratty city girl! Besides, don’t forget I’m going to exile in Middle Of Nowhere, Texas.” I could feel my Mom’s glare penetrating the bubble of friendship that always seemed to surround Toni and me. But as we pulled out of the driveway, the residue of Christian’s last hug still clinging to me like a fly on a windshield, I couldn’t help but include Toni in my group of lost family and wonder just how far a bubble could stretch before it popped.



Similar books


JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 2 comments.


on Nov. 17 2011 at 2:37 pm
Helena_Noel BRONZE, Burnt Hills, New York
1 article 0 photos 629 comments

Favorite Quote:
“I'd rather see a sermon than hear one any day; I'd rather one should walk with me than merely tell the way: The eye's a better pupil and more willing than the ear, fine counsel is confusing, but example's always clear.” -Edgar Guest

I like this, it's good!

on Oct. 9 2011 at 11:49 am
TWIGGII666 GOLD, Franklin, New York
17 articles 1 photo 22 comments

Favorite Quote:
-whines- Really? Son of a...... BAD WORD!

This is a really good book Mel.  Keep writing!