The Boy Who Never Smiled

Chapter 4

Chapter 4
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My thoughts were interrupted by my mother walking into my room, wearing her old, baggy blue sweatshirt that she had gotten from my Aunt Lidia for Christmas three years ago. It was smeared with light drops of purple paint, and her hands were covered in the substance.

"What's up?" I asked, looking up from my drawing.

"Your father and I just finished painting our room. We decided on dark purple walls, with gray swirls, painted by me," my mom announced, looking proud.

I smiled at her. Good. They didn't kill each other.

"That's great, Mom," I told her truthfully, shading in a small part of my drawing.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me and your father on a trip to explore the town," my mother offered, making me look up in surprise, nearly dropping my pencil.

"Really?" I gasped, excitement for once flooding through me. My mom smiled and nodded and I slammed my notebook shut, stuffing my pencil back into its case and leaping off my bed. "Of course I'm coming!" I announced, grinning.

My mom smiled at me once more before she said in a now stern voice, "Get ready. We're leaving in an hour."

I nodded and she turned, walking out of my room.

I began spinning around. Finally, something to do!

I was grateful that myself, my mom, and my dad had packed and sorted most of my things into my new room when we got home. Maybe that was why I was so tired today.

I pulled a pair of blue skinny jeans from a drawer in my dresser, then proceeded to gather the rest of my clothes. 

I then tucked them all beneath my arm and walked into my bathroom.

That was the good thing about this house; I used to not have a walk-in bathroom, now I do. There were four rooms: my parents' was the biggest, also packed with the biggest bathroom. Then mine, the second biggest, also with the second largest bathroom. Then the guest room, then the library/study/office. Yes, it's big. I suppose you could call my family rich. I wouldn't deny it. If people think it makes me vain... It doesn't.

I set my clothes onto the sink and then pulled out my favorite towel before I removed my purple-and-black glasses. Did I mention I have glasses? Well, I do, and though most people think they're a pain, I love them. Once, in middle school, a girl named Sarah who used to love to bully me tried to flick mud into my eyes to blind me temporarily but my old glasses caught it and it didn't get into my eyes. They're like a constant shield 24/7.

I stripped free of my dirty clothes, discarding them into a heap on the floor, before entering the shower.
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I slid my glasses onto my nose, pushing them up onto the right level as I looked around, mumbling, "That's better." I had gotten out of the shower refreshed and smelling like coconut shampoo. Now I was dressed and ready, or almost ready, to go.

I grabbed my brush from off the other side of the sink and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

My hair was tousled and full of tangles, and I winced visibly before raking the brush through my damp hair.

I was careful to remove all the knots as I ripped through my mane of hair. After several long minutes of yanking and muttering curses, I finally appeared decent-looking.

I sighed in relief and then set my brush down, replacing it with the strawberry chapstick Suzan had insisted on buying me.

I applied it quickly until my lips no longer looked like a desert.

I didn't look goregous, but I wasn't hideous, either.

I was ready.

Content, I turned and bounded out of the bathroom, snatching up my purse and stuffing my notebook, pencil case, and phone inside before swinging open the door to my room.

Little did I know of what I would encounter in the town that day.

(A/N: What (or who) do you think Ariana will see? ;) I don't know, tell me in the comments. And yes, I edited this and it has been made shorter. Sorry.

No, really, leave a comment.

Okay, next chapter will be up soon.

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