Best-Friends with Issues

Chapter 7- Hideaway

~Selena~

I was nearing my limit. In more ways than one.

"Selena! Ohhhhh Seleeeeenaaa!" My mother's voice sang from outside my door, making the pain throbbing at the back of my eyelids sharpen. I winced, rubbing my head as I moved to reluctantly to leave the comfort and solitude of my bed. I would normally just ignore her and pretend to be asleep, but the woman is relentless.

Most people would- after receiving no response from knocking- assume that the person in question is either not there or otherwise unavailable. My mother, however, has never been a woman of either mercy nor courtesy. She's been tapping and singing at my door for the past 20 minutes.

"Selenaaaa!" She whined. "We're going to be late! Come on already!"

I opened my bedroom door, focusing all my efforts on glaring at the woman who gave birth to me and not collapsing on the floor. Before I could even open my mouth to say something, no doubt rude and sarcastic, she had grabbed me by the arm and was towing me downstairs at full speed.

Personally, I thought that I had to be incredibly lucky not to slip as soon as my foot neared the edge of the first step. In fact, I made it all the way to the last step before my feet couldn't keep up with the rest of me, and I literally tripped myself down the stairs.

I laid on the floor, gathering my bearings and what little pride I had left, listening to the sound of several amused snickers and laughs.

When I finally had the courage to lift my head from where my face was planted on the floor, I noticed that my entire family was laughing at my suffering, excluding my father. He- of course- wore a perfectly blank mask that made him appear emotionless.

I glared at Sam and Stanton, who were cracking up on the sofa, holding their stomachs and howling with laughter. Our youngest brother was on the floor next to them, giggling into his hands. My mother was the source of the snickering.

I ignored the hand that she offered me and scrambled to my feet, before huffing indignantly and marching into the kitchen.

Sam was the only one who followed me into the kitchen, still looking far too amused for my liking. I sat at the table, ignoring the yelling from my mother telling me to hurry up and eat breakfast so we could go. God only knew where she planned on taking me anyways.

Sam opened the fridge, looking around for something to eat for breakfast. "Sellbells, you have to be the clumsiest person I've ever met."

I snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Okay, well I found something that I can't define in the fridge." He frowned, moving his face closer to the fridge to inspect whatever it was.

"I already knew that."

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out the milk, then shut the fridge. He stopped by the pantry on the way to the kitchen table where I sat, grabbing a box of kids cereal that undoubtedly contained more sugar than grain. He set both food items on the table before turning to grab two bowls and two spoons.

"Thanks." I muttered as I poured some of the cereal into the bowl I was handed. He nodded in response, and thankfully had the sense enough not to irritate me when I was running on fumes.

"Mother-daughter yoga class?" I could hear my dad's incredulous voice from the living room as I munched on my cereal. "Why the hell do you need to go to mother-daughter yoga class? I can't even remember the last time she's actually voluntarily exercised! It's pointless."

"It's a very important step in the deepening of the relationship between a mother and her daughter!" My mother argued. "A man could never understand! When you swap sexual organs and then give birth to a child the size of a watermelon, then you have the right to tell me what's so pointless about it!"