The Twisted Chain || A Disney Fanfic [discontinued]

5. the kidnapping

Keaton Lumont wasn't a stereotypical jock, and if he was, I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him. He was only a half an inch taller than I was and a little on the chubby side, sporting hair the color of wheat and eyes of dull hazel- over time, the color had become somewhat of an obsession of mine. Never had he played on a sports team, or been surfing, or kissed the prettiest girl in school, rebuking several stereotypes.

When he was finally brought into the back room, I lifted my head, daring to catch a glimpse of him- and that was all that I could manage. One glimpse. Because in the eyes of deep hazel that I'd spent nearly two years admiring, all that I could see was a stone-cold form of disappointment. His face was painted in sweat, and his shoulders sagged as though they'd been carrying a burden that had never been his.

He sat down in the empty couch, cradling his forehead in his hands, elbows pressed against knees. "Ex-boyfriend, huh, Vie?" Vie- his nickname for me, pronounced "vee". On any other occasion, I would have offered a smile. This time, however, my heart wrung itself up.

He knew.

He shook his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Well, that's what I am now, aren't I?"

For a moment, I couldn't think, feeling my brain turn to jelly inside of my skull, blocking out all new information. My eyes stung from lack of moisture, but I didn't blink- I knew that if I blinked, I would cry, and I'd already done enough of that to last me the year. So I didn't let myself cry, and I didn't let myself process his words. I just kept them blocked out.

What had just happened?

By the time the officer came to get me, I was completely numb. My legs were shaking- I couldn't stand. I thought about Keaton, what he'd said, how emotionless his words had been, how red and angry he looked. He hated me, I knew it. He hated me, and this was the last night that he would ever talk to me again. We were over, done with, thousands of memories pulled together and cut with a few simple words-

"Ivory Grace Holden, are you listening to me?"

Standing a few feet away from me was Eve Holden- otherwise known as my mother.

Her hair was a chestnut brown and had been pulled into a lazy bun. Her eyes were bright blue- like mine, but less crystal-like, not so easily able to catch the light. She was a few inches taller than I was. Her facial structure was a bit similar to mine- however, her face was thinner, and her nose was a bit bigger. With a similar eye color and facial structure, she looked like she could, in fact, be my biological mother- however, she wasn't. That never affected the way that I treated her, though. She was my mother, not some woman who had filled out papers at an adoption center.

"No," I responded.

Mom rolled her eyes before turning to the policeman at the front desk. "I'm so, so sorry about this, officer," she said, her voice sincere. Her accent was extremely apparent- a combination of American and British, two different sections of a braid being woven together. "I promise, you'll never see Ivory here again."

The officer nodded. "We hope so, Miss Holden."

"I hope so, too." My mother glared at me, her eyes knife-like. Even though mom was very sweet, she could be forceful and dangerous when she needed to be. "And the fine is paid in full?"

"Every penny. Thank you, Miss Holden. You have a good night."

"Mmh. Take care." Mom turned around, pushing against the station's glass doors. I knew what I was in store for- a long speech, a silent car ride, and the slamming of kitchen cabinets once we arrived back home.