*Six Months... I feel like I should be apologizing to Ms. Haley and offering her candy (the get in my van type ;} ) for the terrible length of time its been since I have updated this story. Since this is my for Hay-Hay story. Well here is Chapter Eight long over due... (I apologize now for the short length :( ...)*
“I’ll see you guys later,” Jimmy said, as we stopped outside Dillon’s house.
“See ‘ya Jimmy!” I waved.
“Goodbye,” Amy said, waving to an excited Dillon.
“Have fun you two,” I yelled out my window.
Dillon winked at me. “Oh, we will.”
Shaking my head, I laughed at the pair.
“Okay, are you ready for a super-omega-amazing-slumber party with me?” Amy asked, tearing out of Dillon’s drive way.
“I guess,” I replied, watching the scenery fly by.
“You guess?” she echoed, giving me a sharp look.
“And by I guess I meant, hell yeah!” I said, throwing my fist in the air for emphasis.
“That’s what I thought you meant,” she nodded, pulling into a giant drive way.
“Holy shit! This is your house?” I questioned looking over the mansion.
“Yup, home sweet home,” she replied, pulling into the garage.
“Jesus,” I mumbled, climbing out of her car.
“Yeah, I know it’s big. I think its like a need on this street to have a bigger house than the last,” she joked, leading me out of the garage and into the house.
“Christ!” I exclaimed, spinning around in a circle, in her foyer.
She chuckled, throwing her keys onto a table by the door. “Yeah, that usually the reaction I get.”
“Sorry, it’s just. This place is bigger than the Stepmins’ house,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “How many people live here?”
“For the most part, just me. I guess Clarence stays here as does Sonja but other wise just me,” she answered, leading me out of the main room, and down a hall.
“Where are your parents?” I questioned, looking at the pictures hanging up on the walls as we walked.
There were portraits of Amy, of the Stepmins, Jimmy, Dillon and Tanner. Older looking photos of Amy and two older adults, her parents I concluded. A couple of pictures included Amy and an older black man with an older looking Hispanic woman.
“Gone,” she answered, pushing open two swinging doors that lead to the kitchen.
“Oh,” I mumbled, the feeling of dread and sadness spreading through me.
“It’s fine, it happened, practically another life time ago,” she shrugged, opening the freezer.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted, a moment later.
“It’s fine, really Lane,” she smiled. “Now, are you hungry because I could go for some corndogs and curly fries.”
I smiled a shy smile, before nodding. “I would love some.”
“Good, good. Why don’t you grab some pop out of the fridge over there and I’ll start these,” she instructed grabbing the food out of the freezer and setting it on the counter.
I nodded, walking over and opening the fridge. “Jeez,” I mumbled, as I was greeted with seven or eight different types of soda and juice.
“Any particular one you want?” I asked, grabbing a Pepsi and Mnt. Dew for myself.
YOU ARE READING
The Diary Of Lane
Teen FictionLane was never a popular girl. In fact she was the exact opposite. Kids tormented her. It's not like she wasn't pretty or anything, but when you go to the most clicky materialistic school in the whole lower United States, she could never get a head...
