Never Say Never (Completed)

Fourteen {As We Are}

I was stirred awake by keys jingling and the loud door opening

The little I'd drunk last night had my mind so foggy it took me a few minutes to process what was going on. As soon as I jerked upright, my eyes widening in horror, a sharp pain shot through my head. Sometime during the night Bryan must have thrown a blanket over me and slipped a pillow under my head, as I sat up, the pillow fell to the ground. Bryan himself was asleep in the recliner a few feet away, in a position that couldn't be in any way, shape, or form comfortable. His head with a little to the left, but his body in general was angled more toward the right side of the chair. He'd thrown a blanket over himself as well, but looked as if he'd kicked it off at some point.

"Bryan Taylor Grace!" The woman's high pitched scream echoed through the silent house and stabbed into my skull. Bryan jumped so high he almost fell from the chair, his eyes immediately shooting toward the door. I rubbed the tiredness from my eyes as he walked around the chair to greet whoever had walked in. Standing, I felt my lips part a little in surprise when he approached a beautiful woman in the doorway. She radiated elegance. From her perfectly manicured long, slender fingers, to her the perfectly styled blonde French braid that fell just passed her tailbone. She was wearing a pair of Ray bands, purple lips pursed as she gestured at the front yard behind her.

There was a woman behind her, but she was much younger, closer to our age I'd assume. Her hair wasn't nearly as blonde as her mother's, but more of a light brown, eyes as blue as Bryan's as she squeezed his shoulder comfortingly and broke passed him and into the living room. Her eyes immediately and she blinked, shock overriding the pitiful look she'd been wearing seconds before.

"Oh, hi." She outstretched her hand. "I'm Chelsea, Bryan's older sister.'

Bryan had a sister?

"Who's this?" The woman, Bryan's mother I'd assume, joined her daughter in front of me. She sized me up, slowly plucking the sunglasses from the bridge of her nose, and revealing the blue eyes that her children shared. "You're a dancer."

My eyes shot to Bryan who was shutting the front door, muttering angrily under his breath. He looked up the moment his mother spoke directly to me, met my eyes, then shrugged.

"You're a dancer." His mother repeated as if I hadn't heard the first time. "Who are you?"

Bryan injected himself into the conversation, leaning back against the recliner he'd been sleeping on not even five minutes ago. "Charlotte, this is my mother and my sister Chelsea. Mom, Chels, this is my friend Charlotte. Yes, she's a dancer."

Chelsea raised a light brow. "Friend?"

Swallowing my pain and tiredness, I outstretched my hand. First to his sister then to his mother. His mother looked from me to Bryan behind me.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?"

"Because not everyone needs to be corrupted by you, Mom." Bryan snapped bitterly, then added. "Plus I just learned she danced myself."

His mother, not caring whatsoever I was in the room, smacked Bryan upside the head. "Do not talk to me like that, Bryan. You are not your father, stop acting like it."

Bryan looked as if he wanted to make another snide remark, but instead deflated back against the recliner, looking everywhere in the room but me. She nodded toward me, setting her purse on the recliner beside Bryan.

"Dance for me."

"I actually have to get going." I reached into my pocket and pulled my phone out, wincing when I saw how many missed calls and texts I had from Ian. "My brother's upstairs and—"