You might be my sisters Fiancé, but we still have a history.

Since I am starting school tomorrow (Oh joy, ugh) this short story is going to be updated every wednesday, every week. And trust me, there aren't alot of chapters because this is short story! So, I am roughly predicting five, or six chapters. But they will be totally worth it!

ENJOY!

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('ー') You might be my sisters Fiancé, but we still have a history ('ー')

The Veritcally Challenged, and The Troll.

"So why did your sister invite the whole fam to dinner?"

I glanced at Mikey and shrugged, "Hell if I know. I'm still trying to figure out why she invited me."

He placed a hand on my knee and rubbed his thumb in circles, while one hand held onto the wheel of his flashy yellow jeep. I smiled in response and leaned my head against the window, thinking about the last time Rosa and I saw each other...

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

My mother had howled when she came home to see me packing, I looked up from my suite case and smirked.

"I'm packing for college, duh!" The suite case was zipped up, and I stood next to three boxes filled with things I wanted to keep; everything else I didn't want either went to the dump, or Good Will.

"You're not stepping a foot out of this house until you reply to the application from Juilliard!" She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped in front of the door, trying to stop me from walking out with her tiny frame.

Mom always thought she would be the taller one, but she was dead wrong. Me, being the family accident, was about 5'9 with a good twenty pounds on my five foot three mother.

"Sorry mom, but that preppy music school just isn't for me." I said, trying to bite back the emotion that it brought up.

Truth is, Juilliard was a dream come true. I played the French Horn, and got a scholarship when some scouts came to one of my band concerts; two months later I got a letter with the Juilliard emblem on it. Although music was one of my many passions, I wanted to be an author. And Juilliard wanted me to play my wicked French Horn, not write my way through everything.

So, I applied to one of the Colleges my boyfriend Mikey had applied to, and I got in because of my exponential grades, and I had all the right credits.

"Hell if it isn't!" She grabbed at my suite case, but I easily lifted it out of her grasp.

"Let me go mom."

The words stung her, like a whip to the heart. And it played all over her face; I wanted to take it back and apologize, maybe even start speaking rationally. But now is the time I fly out of the nest.

"Just please take it into consideration." She begged, a few stray tears dripped from the corner of her eyes.

My chest tightened, but I swallowed my pride and shook me head, "You have to let me find my own way now Mom. I'm sorry," I pulled her into my arms and hugged her, resting my head against the top of hers, taking in her familiar scent, "I love you."

She sobbed into my chest and I let go of her, "I love you to..."

Five minutes later the back seat of my Blazer was packed with my stuff, and Rosa pulled into the drive way with her friends.

Rosa was just like Mom, small and blonde, with light green eyes and tan skin. She was three years younger than me, because I was conceived on our parents honey moon, just days after they married, I was a major accident. After raising me, Mom was pregnant again, and Rosa came along.