kaden the irresistible | re-uploading in process

02 - KADEN THE IRRESISTIBLE

small reminder: i changed the time period. they're in college, not high school, if you read the version before this. also, if you use curse words in your comment, wattpad marks it as "offensive" and won't post it to be seen. also, also, yes, the writing is bad. will be re-uploading this chapter by chapter every friday (if i miss a friday, it means i was swamped with something).

02 - KADEN THE IRRESISTIBLE
(first draft, unedited, 2016-18)

"Dylan," my mother exclaimed. Her voice was honeyed when she watched me descend the stairs, parallel to the front door and her standing position next to her luggage. "When did you get back? I thought I wouldn't get to see you before I left! Have you changed your mind about coming with me to see Ella?"

8AM flashed sharply on the foyer clock, two hours after I had snuck out of Kaden's house. In those two hours, I caught an Uber home—clad in only a hoodie stolen from his closet—and took a shower. I wasn't a clothing thief, but my dress was ruined, my bra and shoes were lost, and my underwear was partially ripped. I mentally mourned the loss of the dress as it was an extravagant find at the thrift store. The rest were easily replaced. 

As for Kaden's hoodie, I intended on returning it later, but now I was thankful for the choice. My wardrobe included exclusively summer attire with shortened tops, shorts, and skirts; none of which would cover the evidence of my late night activities which were noticeable of hickies and bruises.

My decolletage had varying marks toned in red and purple, concentrated along the curve of my neck, but some were scattered further down my abdomen, a set of fingertip bruises branding my hips. Other than feeling tender, they were fine but it'd be a mess if my mom saw them.

"Ah, no," I declined the hopeful invitation, biting down on a sour retort at my older sister's expense. Instead of showing that disdain, I smiled and reached the bottom of the stairs. "I got home around midnight. I had, uh. . . something to handle at the pet shelter," I lied before swiftly embracing her in a hug.

We worked to create an honest relationship, but in this singular instance, telling her the truth would be detrimental to said relationship. She loved me but trust was something else entirely; it went to a certain extent—a rightfully limited extent set by my own actions.

Even though I hadn't drank or taken anything, she would make a huge thing about it. It was one time, and every once in a while, a little white lie was needed. And sure, I was technically an adult but one who hoped to preserve our relationship as well as the standing fact I still lived under her roof.

(Unlike my sister, I didn't receive a scholarship to some college; rather I opted to go to our local community college, continue living at hope and save up. A pragmatic line of reasoning and action for a former wild child, I did pride myself on.)

"But of course, I'm gonna see you off," I said as we parted, and I took in her appearance.

With two black suitcases and a duffel stuffed to capacity, she was primed for her three-day weekend near Harvard University, where her eldest daughter, Ella, was studying to be a doctor. She was dressed reasonably for Maine in a thick pants suit for the but not necessarily for northern California, where the heat was blazing at the peak of August.

As far as physical looks went, I resembled my father, and Ella was the one who inherited most of her looks; but, my mom and I still had similarities. We shared the same complexion, and many mistaken her for my sister. She was fifty-five yet looked nothing over forty.

"Dylan—" my mom began but my dog came scampering in through the door, claws tapping on the wood floors, and nearly knocked her over in his excitement. That made her laugh, steadying before she bent down to pet him. Unfortunately, that didn't stop her from remarking matter-of-factly, "I bet your sister would love to see you, and it wouldn't be a hassle to get you a plane ticket and I can take a later flight so you can pack."