Dumped!

Dumped (31)

 

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Hi guys!

 Here's a very insightful comment by @ren-nyy:

“amaaaaziing story :) and i was reading cassandra clare's blog, and like she says that authors reeeeeally get irritated when you're like suggesting ideas for the story when the author hasn't asked, because a) it can be a little insulting-like they cant figure out the story themselves and b) because if someone does suggest an idea and the author was already going to use the idea, it makes it seem like the author IS taking ideas, and that bugs them, so they won't use it and have to change it . . . . .”

Well, I know I’m not an author, but I guess it applies to teenage writers as well, cause those are my exact reasons. So, I’m sorry if anyone was offended – I wasn’t trying to be mean or anything, but it’s just how I feel. Anyway, here’s chapter 31. Hope you like it. :)

 

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RECAP:

I was just settling down to sleep – as there was nothing else to do – when I heard a soft knock against the door.

Well, at least the nurses were getting polite, I thought to myself. “Come in”, I called.

The door swung open, and in walked Deana.

I felt my breath get caught in my throat as she said, “Hi.”

 

31

Mrs. Carter’s P.O.V.  ---  Part 2.

“You came”, I breathed. I couldn’t believe she’d actually come to see me; I’d long since given up any hope I had left.

“Yeah”, she replied, leaning against the wall. She had a mixture of discomfort and remorse on her face.

“What made you?” I asked, curious.

“Dad . . mostly”, she answered, with a shrug.

So, that was Howard’s thing, that he had to go and do. He’d never been a fan of conflict of any kind – I mean, who is? – and, I could tell it was really getting to him that Deana and I were not on speaking terms.

“Well, I’m glad”, I said.

“How’s the heart?” she asked quietly.

“Much better now”, I replied, intending a double meaning for the response.

She nodded and we delved into an awkward silence, for a few minutes.

I was just about to break it, when she said, “Mom . . . I know I said some . . pretty harsh things to you last week; I yelled at you and . . I know it was wrong. I’m sorry about that . . . but . . I meant some of what I said, and I can’t . . . I don’t want to apologize for that, cause that'd be a lie.”