Chapter Fourteen
“Wait, what’s happening?” I asked my mom, sliding my foot back and forth on the cool tiled floor of our kitchen.
“Talia’s family is coming over for dinner,” she answered, continuing to stir the contents of the steel pot she had attached herself to for the afternoon.
“Why do I have to be here?”
“She has a younger brother, and after speaking with her mother, I believe he’s about the same age as you,” she took the spoon out of the concoction she was brewing, and shoved it up to my nostrils. I almost chocked, the aroma of basil was so strong.
“Are you trying to poison them?”
“That bad? Maybe ordering out is a good idea…”
“Ya think? So wait, Talia has a little brother?”
“Yeah. He might actually be in your grade at school; but of course I wouldn’t know, considering you never tell me anything about school anymore!”
“Sorry that I’m just being the average teenager every American parent has to deal with; I’ll try harder to be abnormal,” I promised.
“Good. Speaking of your school friends, I haven’t seen Taylor or Emily around here lately. They used to come over all the time! What happened?”
I thought for about half a second to tell her they were slutty bitches, but then decided against it, “We don’t really talk anymore…” I said, not lying.
“Oh… that’s too bad, should I call Amy about it?”
“NO! Under no circumstances are you to meddle in my personal life mom! Absolutely do NOT call Amy about this! PLEASE!”
“Okay, okay, go do something productive!”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know… clean your room, do homework… walk the dog? I don’t really care, just go away from here!”
“Getting rid of me are we?” I laughed.
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re doing. Oh and before they come, please change into something a little nicer than a t-shirt and those old basketball shorts of your brother’s.”
“Fine. Bye mom!” I yelled, as I jogged down the hallway, and entered my room, immediately regretting it.
My room looks like a war zone, in the middle of a hurricane, that a tornado just happened to pass by, leaving behind the debris known as my floor. It’s pretty bad. I’m not exactly what you would call “organized”, but I’m not a total slob. I mean most of the rubble on the carpeted floor is just dirty clothes that didn’t make it into the laundry basket (let’s just say my dunking skills aren’t too good).
Where to start… Hmmm… If I were an overachiever who did everything meticulously, and had OCD, what would I start with? Let’s see… I’m thinking all the laundry on the floor, if you can even call it that. I slowly made my way across the room, picking up dirty clothes, and throwing them into the laundry basket along the way. Done… with the clothes. Now onto shoes!
How did I even succeed in taking all my beautiful shoes out of my closet, and land them scattered about my room? It really does bewilder me how I managed that. I guess its just talent. Figures. I shoved all my shoes up against my closet door, and then opened the door. Being me, I hastily threw each pair of shoes in their appropriate spot. I may not be overly organized, but when it comes to shoes, I don’t mess around. Boots go in the back, because they’re the biggest, heals go next to them, then sneakers, then Converse (yes they’re different than sneakers), then flats, and in the front my lovely flip flops. I did a quick head count- well really a shoe count, and found that I did indeed have 37 pairs in total. Wow. That’s a lot. Whatever.
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Back Again
Teen FictionJulia Tylers was gone for two years. She hadn't been in contact with the people from her old life. To her, they were gone, and she would never see them again. She unexpectedly came back-- back to the place she swore she'd never return. She changed...
