Sex?

Chapter 5

"OOhhhhhhhh," I yawn.

I'm on my bed.

My feet on my pillows and my belly on the mattress.

I'm trying to work on my Math Worksheet, but all I have accomplished is twiddling my pen.

I walk to my window that sits beside my bed, overlooking a few trees and our driveway. My mother's car comes to view behind the white curtains etched with birds. The curtains flow and wave with the wind even without my fingers brushing their soft touch. They lightly close on their own as I turn away.

I sigh as I flop on my pink and rosy bed.

The soft blanket rubbing against my fingers tempt me to lie down and rest my cheek on the patterned sheets. But instead, I distract myself with my gaze and let it roam around my decent sized room.

If you were to enter the door of my room, you'd see the big bed I sit on right now. It would tempt you just as it tempts me.

But then you'd see the cozy brown furniture that glows underneath the yellow lights.

One amazing piece of furniture being a dresser that slides on the left side of my room, taking the space along with a few scattered cupboards that are shoved with who knows what inside. Then you'd get engulfed by the opposite mirror wall. You'd get hypnotized; it takes up the whole wall.

I know, crazy. Who needs a mirror that big?

Thankfully, I've got a comfy bean bag chair that distracts you from staring deep within your soul!

It also helps create the illusion that the messy clothes scrambled on the floor are a choice.

I look away from the mess and the temptation to crawl towards my bean bag chair to relax. My gaze lands on the small desk beside my bed instead.
My warm, soft bed full of firm pillows for my head.

Oh fuck it. I close my eyes, forgetting about my math homework and collapse on my fully made bed. The fluff of my bed reacts to my weight with a pleasurable sigh as if it too has been waiting for this moment.

BANG!

My bedroom door opens, the sound echoing through the room, stopping my momentary peace.

"Clean, clean, clean!" My mother enters with a basket half full of my brother's clothes.

I groan, getting out of my comfortable position.

"Hurry up! We don't have all day!" my mom pipes. She starts shoving clothes off the floor and into the basket. Okay, maybe I have more than just a little bit of clothes on the floor.

"Mom! I can do this later," I whine.

"And when will later be?" She waits for an answer but none comes. "Exactly."

Watching as she moves her brown hair, that mixes with black hues, out of her face as she gathers clothes into the basket, I study the curls on her head that hang off naturally. Her hair is curlier than usual. I got my curly hair from her, yet my hair is more wavy than curly and lighter too.

I start grabbing clothes and put them in the basket.

"I can do it Mom," I tell her, trying to stop the pattern and rush that she's making.

"Really?"

"Yea," I reassure her.

She puts her hair in a bun and plops on the bed. She sits there in silence as I put my clothes in the basket.

When I look at my mom, I notice her blue eyes are glistening..."Mom, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." But I can see the tears trying to spill. She sits in silence for a while.

"Okay." I shrug, and I start to put the remaining clothes in the basket, when my mom finally erupts. I let go of the clothes and sit on the bed. On impulse, I rest my hands on hers, trying to offer comfort.

"Chris..." she cries. I rub her back.

"What is it?" I ask.

"He's gone...He thinks I'm a mess." She gasps. "He can't handle...my ...Shit!!!" She tries to gather herself but starts yelling instead. "He... thinks I'm too paranoid with myself! Too CRAzy!"

I rub her back, staying silent, letting her express herself. She collapses on me when her final words end and she's quiet like me. I can feel her sobs though as she shakes, wetting my jeans.

Ever since our father left us with nothing, she's had nobody, only working shifts after shifts, putting all her time on work. Then she met Chris. He had beautiful blond hair with blue eyes and a kind heart, he was like Prince Charming. I met him in elementary while my little brother was four, I never really liked him, I never really liked anyone after my dad left.

My mother starts to calm down and wipes her tears. I watch her as she stands up, gathering herself and grabs the remaining clothes, putting them in the basket before reaching the door again.

"What happened?" I ask before she can leave, watching her turn my way under the doorframe. She looks at me, takes a deep breath, gulping down the tears starting to form as she recalls the memory in her head.

Hesitating before she continues, taking a breath in, she decides to tell me," He... needs to move to New York for work, he asked me to come." She gulps down the tears as she pauses. "I said I couldn't and I asked him to stay.... And that.." Tears trickled down her face. "He got mad at me," she whines.

"What! Why?" I feel the anger and confusion toward this fight they had.

"Because... He thinks the reason behind me not going is because I don't want to be with him. He accused me of liking someone else. He thinks I've been seeing someone behind his back!" Realizing how ridiculous Chris had acted, she becomes outraged,"I can do so much better!" She confesses.

"Yes you can!" I agree. She smiles triumphantly in return.

"Thank you... for letting me get it out," she thanks, a soft smile to her lips as she looks at me.

"Of course." I smile. She smiles back and leaves the room with her chin high. I smile on how strong my mother is. Even if she doesn't realize it.

I plop down on my bed and look up at the ceiling, smiling as I begin to relax once more.

Bling.

My phone rings beside me.

I roll over, ignoring my phone.

Bling. Bling. Bling.

"Agh," I groan. I turn over and look at my phone to find Andrew's name on the screen.