My Record Store Romance

My Record Store Romance; First Chapter

Rewritten

Current Cover made by kwriter_

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My fingers pressed into the windowsill as I leaned against it, turning my head to get a look out of the glass. It was morning, early morning, because the window was barley warmed and the sky was still a pink orange tint.

I was waiting for something to hit me, like some remorse for my school life or some realization that in three months I would be leaving for college. Or maybe some childhood recollections that would cause me to break down, and realize how fast life was moving and how long of a journey I still had ahead of me.

But it never came.

So as I stood in front of my bedroom window, waiting and soaking in the light from the sun which had started to reflect through my curtains, my mother's loud voice echoed through the house and up to my room, interrupting me.

"Hailey! Breakfast!" she boomed, and I listened to the scuttle of her heels and the sound of clanking dishes downstairs.

I knew that sound. She had been cooking.

I wondered why she even bothered cooking.

She knew she was horrible at it, that she would never add enough flour or stir it long enough or keep it at the right temperature or flip it right. But she never stopped trying, and I guess I loved her for that.

So I let out a loud huff of air as I retreated from my window, and shuffled through the hallway and down my stairs. My fears were confirmed as I reached the bottom steps and smelled the fumes of burnt pancakes and old syrup. I looked over at the counter where they were laid out on a large plate, and I pretended not to notice their extremely lumpy persona and slightly blackened edges.

Then I looked at my mom, who was beaming at me like she had just accomplished some great feat, even though she had probably failed at cooking me pancakes about 1000 times just in the past 3 years.

Her hair was pinned up into a bun and her usual things were already in her hand, as she was rearing to leave the house like she always did early every morning. Her coffee cup had red lipstick smudges, evidence that her lips had already been placed there. And her black briefcase was tucked neatly under her arm, holding everything she would need for the day.

"Hailey honey," she began, just like every morning, "I made you some pancakes for breakfast, but there is also some leftover lasagna in the fridge, so you can just warm that up later okay?"

I nodded gently, my brown hair bobbing up and down along with me. I was still in a sleepy morning haze.

"You won't be home for dinner?" I questioned, even though I knew the answer. She was never home for dinner.

"I'm afraid not." she frowned, making her way over to me as her heels clicked against the white tile. "It's finally court day, so I don't know how long it will take. But you'll be alright."

Of course I'd be alright, I basically lived on my own anyway.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine." I smiled, but it felt forced. "Don't worry about me, go win that case of yours."

I wondered how many times I had recited that line. I wondered if she ever did worry about me, even though I told her not to. I was pretty sure she never worried about me, but that was just something I had gotten use to.

"Thanks Hailey." she smiled back at me, the same toothy lopsided smile that I saw every morning. She began to turn for the door, but then she stopped, as if she remembered something.