A Thousand Words | ✓

Chapter Five: A Thousand Unspoken Truths

fyi, the first six chapters have been recently rewritten-thoroughly edit (as of 9/27/14). there's been a lot of changes done to this chapter from the first draft, so ignore weird mistakes and typos bc i have a feeling there's still more in here with all the rewording I had to do.

dedicated to beatrice bc i've been able to pick her out of the crowd just with her hilarious comments. enjoy the chapter :) xx

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Chapter Five: A Thousand Unspoken Truths 

"Reece!"

Running a towel through my damp hair, I stepped out of the bathroom and followed the sound of Rebecca's voice to the living room. She stood in the middle of the area with her hands on her hips and her mouth pursed. It wasn't hard to detect the disapproval in her features as she inspected the living room.

"What's up?" I asked.

She turned at my question and gestured towards the room. "Do you see this?" she responded.

I blinked at her and did a once over with the living room. Stacks of graded worksheets were piled into a messy heap, covering what was a noticeable glass coffee table. Several of Chris' toys were sprawled across the floor. Tangled wires from our old game consoles acted as a walking hazard for all walks near the TV. And a crumpled chip bag sat next to the trash bin from when I didn't have the energy to get up and throw it away myself.

Everything looked normal to me, to be honest.

"It looks the same as it always does," I said, shrugging.

Rebecca gaped at me incredulously. "You have guests coming over, Reece. Do you don't want them to think a bunch of cannibals live here?"

I grinned cheekily as I swiped the crumpled bag off the floor and threw it into the wastebasket. "Well, with three guys living in one place . . ."

Rebecca pressed her fingertips to her temples. "Don't remind me," she sighed.

"You love us."

"Of course I love the three most important guys in my life," she said, patting my cheek before adding, "But you're all a bunch of pigs, so clean this mess up."

"Such a loving comment," I called after her retreating figure.

"It's called tough love," she shouted back. "And put a shirt on!"

As Rebecca disappeared into her bedroom, I scowled at the mess before me. There was no way in actual hell that I was playing clean up by myself. Especially when the other two quarters of this junk belonged to a cluttered geography teacher and a rowdy nine year old.

I raised my voice and yelled, "Chris! Get your little –"

The word barely escaped my lips before Mark appeared at the doorway with a stern look on his face. "Language."

"Butt," I finished innocently. "I was going to say butt."

"Sure," Mark drawled, unconvinced. If there was one thing I liked most about this man was that he was a better dad than my own could ever be. He was chill and sarcastic and witty, but he's always there for the people who need him most. Those he cared about always came first, which is something my bastard of a dad rotting in a jail cell should pick up. He should have learned a thing or two about what came with raising a child before selling his first batch of drugs.

"Rebecca told me you have company tonight." Mark went over to the coffee table with a grimace. "I forgot about this table," he muttered to himself quietly.