**completed**
HIGHEST RANKINGS:
#1 IN FICTION
#1 IN SLOWBURN
#1 IN COLLEGE
Penn State University.
Home to the craziest sorority girls, most obnoxious football players, and a girl that's trying to dig her way out of her parent's mess.
Naomi Black wa...
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Naomi Williams
Six and a Half Years Later
"Are you guys on your way?" I scoffed at Griffin's voice. Natalie looked over at me and chuckled, clicking her tongue. "Griffin, does it look like we even made it out of the house yet?" I slammed the refrigerator door closed, the fresh coloring pages hanging on by a meer magnet.
"Get in the car! Don't forget the passes!" He lectured her through facetime. I watched as Natalie stressed herself out. I bit my lip, walking over to her watching her say her goodbyes and hitting the red end button.
I frowned as my eyes traced over her under-eye dark circles.
"I'm going to lose my mind." She muttered as I cracked a smile. "Nope you're not going to do that, I won't let you." I back her up as she packs up the kit she was pumping with.
Bottles littered the countertops.
"You know— you could just tell her to be a big girl. She's eight now, Natalie. And you have a newborn." She stands up from the table. "I can't just tell Chandler to grow up because she has a brother. She's old enough now, she will think that I love him more!" I let out a loud laugh.
Natalie Reagan.
One of the many mommy friends that I had in my life. However, the only difference between me and the other mommies was that I only had one. Do I wish I had more than one?
Yes.
It was early in the morning, too early for the kids but they would have to fucking deal with it.
"Just give Cooper a friend? Chandler has a bestie," She bats her eyelashes at me. I furrow my eyebrows, shaking my head. "You gotta take that one up with the boss, he wants to wait." She gave me a look of Ludacris.
"Wait? Mattison Williams wants to wait to have another baby? That's why you haven't been knocked up again? Have you seen that man with your child?" She tries to speak quietly, but towards the end, her voice goes up an octave.
It was early and the kids were awake— however, we didn't want to summon them.
I shrug, "He's a psycho. He thinks that if he has a kid every so many year he can dedicate his time to them. But if you asked me–" I cut myself off as I leaned towards Natalie. "Every five to eight years there is a good chance the football roster gets recycled." She snorts.
