Out of the Ordinary

Chapter 17

"Mom?"

She didn't smile, didn't move forward, only said, "Hello, Maddie."

And I slammed the door closed in her face.

"Madelyn!" she called through it, and I could hear the outrage in her voice.

"I'm-I'm sorry, I just-"

"Please tell me you didn't just lock your mother out..." Harry's voice asked, and I couldn't tell if he was amused or impressed or scared for my life.

"I, um...yes." I admitted, phone pressed to my ear, already running down the hallway to my room to clean up at least some of the mess. (And by "clean," I mean toss everything into my closet and close the door.)

"Mads!" Harry chastised, but there was a bit of a laugh in it, too, "You've got to stop doing that to people! I'm one thing, but your mum?! Have you gone absolutely mad?"

I was panting, "I just have to clean up some things really quick." I sniffed a shirt, wrinkling my nose at the smell, then tossed it into the hamper I never used, "She'll be fine for a minute."

Harry was definitely amused, "What happened to being absolutely terrified of her?"

I closed my closet doors, hearing something fall from behind them and deciding I'd deal with whatever it was later, "Well, I ended up having to face her when you were here, didn't I? Let's just consider this a payback of sorts."

Harry scoffed, "From the way you described her all that time, you're really in for it now."

"It's different this time. You're not here." I quickly pulled the comforter up on my bed, not worrying about how neat it looked. I could handle her by myself. When he was here, I feared her taking out all of her anger on him. Now that he wasn't here, I didn't have to worry as much.

"Right, so theoretically, you should have had an easier time with her today. But I think you've just ruined any chance of that."

"No, it would've been miserable anyway. I haven't been answering her calls."

"Why not?" He was startled, I could tell by the way his voice had risen.

There was a loud pounding on the front door, and I sighed, glancing towards it, "No particular reason. Listen, I better get going though. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Alright," Harry said, letting out a long breath, "Let me know if you make it out alive."

"I will. I -" I almost said it, those three words that rang so true in every fiber of my being it felt wrong to hold them back. But I stopped myself, and finished with, "I'll talk to you later."

As I hung up the phone, I stared at the one thing I had to hide - but it was also the one thing I didn't want to touch.

Harry's note still sat brazenly on my night table, reminding me once again of what had happened that night, a month and a half ago, of how much I looked forward to doing it again.

One week to go, I reminded myself as I picked it up, hoping against hope that I would feel the imprint of his fingers somehow before opening the drawer and tucking it inside, right next to the first one he wrote me.

My mother didn't even know that he'd stayed in my apartment that night, let alone in my bed with me. Nothing had happened, but I didn't need her going even more berserk than she was likely about to.

With one last glance at my now semi-tidy room, I made it back down the hallway, thankful for Emily's OCD as I checked the living room and kitchen for any offensive things laying around (offensive things being anything that made the apartment look less than spotless), because I was sure she would inspect the entire premises upon entering.