Thicker Than Water

Chapter 3

Another chapter...bit of a filler but they are a necessary evil. I would really love it if the few of you who are reading this could let me know how I'm doing because I appreciate the feedback. I have been writing stories for as long as I can remember and finally decided to post something and I really would like to have an outside perspective. But, even if you don't, I appreciate you giving it the time :) and bear with me, it's still just getting started!! 

Happy reading! (Did that sound as cheesy in your head as it did in mine?)

I sat on the bed for a while, staring at nothing in particular.  It was one of those rare times when I just shut my brain off. I know there is so much I could be thinking about, so much I needed to think about, but instead I just stare at the lurid paint in my room.

I could have been in a state of hazy nothingness for an hour or maybe just a few minutes, but eventually I was snapped back to the present by a buzzing noise. I looked over at my worn Adidas duffel that was sitting to the right of the bed on an end table. The bag was the only thing in the room that wasn’t drenched in girly frills and flashy pink sequins. It was torn from years of dragging back and forth from soccer practice and mud was crusted along the white wording.

I stretched myself across the bed and grabbed for my cellphone that was in the outer pocket. Unsurprisingly, Payton’s name flashed on the screen saying I had a new message. I have been successfully ignoring my best friend since I found about the Goldings’, leaving her abandoned at our old school without even the knowledge of my moving.  It sounds pretty heartless and if I am being honest with myself, I know I was doing it out of my own personal voracity rather than the lie I force fed myself in order to make me feel better.

 I told myself keeping Payton and everyone else I knew back in Chesepee in the dark about my parents would save them the headache I have been enduring for the past month. In actuality, I wanted all my friends untangled from my problems in fear of what their reactions would be. I know Payton would stick by my side no matter what but the only problem was I don’t even know where my side is.

The message Payton sent was a typical proclamation of falsified hate due to my absence from classes. I ignored the text and called her. Payton’s bubbly voice picked up the phone after only two rings. “You better have a good explanation for skipping again. Mr. D assigned partners for that history project and I got stuck with that kid in the back who projectile spits every time he pronounces a word with ‘s’ in it.”

I knew exactly how Payton looked right now. Her long strawberry blonde hair tied up in a messy ponytail the minute she got home, a bowl of fruit resting on her stomach with her feet propped up on the couch, head falling back on the armrest as she was casually flipping through a magazine until she was interrupted by my call. The whole thing was so normal if I closed my eyes I could almost feel myself in my own room (my real room, not this glittery mess) lying back on my bed staring up at the Cristiano Ranaldo poster plastered on my ceiling whilst Payton giggled about  Pat Roger, her current obsession.

“Sucks, Pay, but I go bigger problems. You won’t I believe where I am right now.” The kidney shaped swimming pool my window overlooked was crowded with dead leaves. Weren’t pools supposed to be closed by the end of August?

“Lexington, Massachusetts? Please tell me your new home is at least better than that piece of crap of a house you left.” My mouth fell open from shock and it was all I could do to hold back a gasp but still a weird sounding wheeze came out of me that I quickly held behind a cough.

“We’re neighbors, Pay,” I said when I finally gathered my thoughts enough to speak. “Our houses are practically identical,” my voice came out distractedly, my mind still in a shell shocked state.  “When the hell were you going to tell me you knew where I was? God, I’ve been driving myself insane trying to figure out how to tell you!” This was classic Payton Emmerfield, always having the upper edge by leaving you oblivious of the fact she even has the upper edge.