Identity (Published sample)

Chapter 2- Sample

New neighbors. I don't know how I feel about this. My head's a mess, filled with mixed thoughts. Should I jump in joy or drown my sorrows in junk food? I'm leaning more toward the unhealthy option even though I know I'll regret it later, but you do only live once.

Junk food it is.

"Nope," Mom says, rushing into my room when I walk back toward my bed. "We're going to go meet them after they settle in."

"Mom," I groan and drop my face in my pillow, hiding from her view.

Please, just leave me alone.

I'm not in the mood today to meet new people and put on my fake smile that wears me down. I have my bad days and good days. Today is bad.

"They look like a big family. It's a great opportunity for you to make friends."

"I have friends, for your information," I grunt against my pillow.

A second later, it's yanked from my face and thrown across the room. I gasp as the pillow flies and lands on Simba's face, making him fall to the floor on his stomach in shock.

Poor baby.

He looks confused and heartbroken.

"Mom, how could you?!" I whisper-yell before running over to my poor dog. "Look what you did to my son." Cradling him in my arms, I gesture him toward Mom. "It's okay, baby. Mommy's got you." I rush out as he nuzzles his head in the bend of my arm.

Hands on her hips, she rolls her eyes at me. "You're eighteen."

I snuggle my face into his fur. "You're forty-five. What's your point?"

Her mouth drops open in shock as she shakes her head. She tries to hide the smile that's lifting her mouth, but she fails miserably.

"I see that smile, girl," I joke. "Let it shine, let it shine," I say right before she pushes my shoulder playfully.

"Get ready," she says from over her shoulder as she walks to my bedroom door.

"Do I have to?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

She plainly says, "Yes."

"I'll buy you dinner for an entire week if you let me skip."

Pointing at me from the doorway of my room, she demands, "Hard pass. Get ready, miss."

She disappears from my sight, and I open my mouth to argue, but she interrupts like she can see me, which is freaky.

"Don't argue with me," she calls from the hallway. "And wear something appropriate—no booty shorts or anything like that. We have to make a good impression!"

Damn, is that what she thinks of me? I wasn't planning on wearing my "booty shorts."

"I'll wear my bikini then," I call back and let out a laugh when I hear her gasp. "I'm joking! I'm joking!" I exclaim with a wide smile as she rushes back into the room with a scowl.

I love pushing her buttons, and deep down, I know she kinda loves it too. It keeps things interesting when things are anything but that.

Mom stands in the doorway for a couple of seconds before finally leaving me to get dressed. Making sure to lock my bedroom door, I open my two closet doors and peer at all my clothes hanging neatly.

Going comfy is the best route. It's not like I'm meeting the Queen of England. It's probably just another old couple. What other young people would want to move here?

People my age like parties, blaring music—basically everything loud. Here has everything but that.

Gathering the clothes that I've chosen in my arms, I undress. A pair of light-blue mom jeans with holes at the knees cover my long legs, and a black crop top covers my toned stomach. Not having the energy to style my hair, I just throw it up in a messy bun with some short pieces of hair defining my face.