It Started with a Bet... (Watty Awards 2011)

"That's my home!" (post 1/3 for June 5th)

Chapter 17—“That’s my home!”

“Haley?”

The next morning, I’m awakened to the sound of Trevor’s mom’s voice.

“Haley…”

School. I have school today. I jump out of bed, my face nearly coming into contact with Mrs. Choi’s forehead. It’s still odd to even think of calling her “Mom.”

“Ah, calm down!” she whispers urgently. “Trevor told us about yesterday.”

Oh. Of course he did. I follow her into the kitchen, where I realize that it’s ten in the morning and I’ve missed first period and most of second. Mr. Choi is sitting there as well.

“Haley,” he says with a smile. “It’s nice to see you up.”

I return the smile tentatively and sit down. I don’t like the set up of this. I feel like I’ve been taken under custody.

“So, how are you feeling?” Mr. Choi asks.

“Well. How about you?”

“Just fine,” he replies. He purses his lips, as though unsure of where to go next. That’s when his wife breaks in.

“Haley, we’d like for you to live with us.”

What?! Where on earth did this come from? The shock must be visible on my face, because Mr. Choi immediately cuts in, his voice a little more soothing.

“It’s not a big deal, Haley. It’s just that, well, you’ve had two of these episodes now and we really don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone in that house.”

“It’s not that house,” I say in exasperation. “That’s my home!”

“Haley, it’s dangerous!” Mrs. Choi exclaims. “We’re worried about you!”

I take a deep breath and think about it. Think about the difference between my house and Trevor’s. There’s the colors, first of all. His house is always brightly lit and full of people and laughter. And my house…isn’t. Would it really be so bad to stay here?

It wouldn’t, I decide, but that doesn’t mean that I really want to. I mean, how could I just waltz into their life like that?

“I don’t want to impose,” I insist.

“Haley, this is about your health. Plus, it’s not like you don’t seem to live here already, right? Don’t you and Trevor hang out both here and at your place? You’re practically family to us by now,” Mr. Choi says.

“You even call us ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad,’” Mrs. Choi says. Uh…oops? I guess I’ll have to work on that.

“But still. I’m not sure I feel comfortable—”

“Haley,” Mr. Choi says sternly. “This is about your health. You can either move in with us, or we’re going to need to have a chat with your parents about your current situation. You can’t just expect us to stand by and do nothing.”

He doesn’t mean it like a threat, but to me it is.

I clear my throat and look down. “Okay. I’ll stay, then, I guess.”

The next thing I know, Mrs. Choi/Mom has taken me next door to pack some stuff.

“There’s so much pink,” she says in surprise. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear stuff this…” she shakes a ruffled mini-skirt in my direction, “this flirty before.”

“I don’t like that kind of stuff,” I mutter.

Mom looks are the closet a little longer. I can see the disbelief in her face. How could I say that I didn’t like the “kind of stuff” that my closet is filled with? To anyone else, it wouldn’t make sense.

“Remind me to take you shopping some time, Haley,” she says finally. I look at her in confusion, but she just smiles at me, as though this is a completely normal conversation to be having.

“Uh…okay.”

We cart over a bunch of clothes and my bulletin board over to Trevor’s house and I set up in the guest room. I don’t know what’s in store, but it’s bound to be exciting. I spend the rest of the day over at my house, cleaning out the refrigerator and calling various utility companies and cancelling services.

“Yes, this is Lena Waters,” I lie into the phone for the seventy-fifth time. Thank goodness my parents have had me do this kind of stuff for them before. Though cancelling the electricity was completely new to me and took a while to figure out.

Just as I’ve finished with the electricity guy and am about to call about our satellite TV, the doorbell rings.

“Haley, I figured that we’d go out to lunch,” Mom says with a smile. She, Dad and I go to some random Italian restaurant. They try to engage me in a conversation, but I very quickly turn it on them, asking about what it’s like to be an ER doctor and all that jazz.

“It’s hectic,” Mom explains. “A lot of effort goes into it, you know? You’ve got elementary school…”

“And middle school,” Dad cuts in.

“And high school.”

“And a bachelors”

“Masters”

“PhD”

“You have a PhD?” I ask.

“Well, no,” Dad admits sheepishly. “But there’s grad school.”

“And the residency.”

“It’s just a lot of work,” Dad finishes with a smile. “But it’s worth it when you save your first life.”

“Or something simple,” Mom agrees. “Like setting a broken bone.”

“And you see the wackiest stuff. Like one time this guy went fishing and hooked his own back.”

I grimace at the thought.

“And people stapling themselves,” Mom laughs. “You have no idea how many idiots staple themselves.”

“People are so strange,” I agree, digging into my pasta.

“Yeah,” Dad says.

The whole lunch thing, it’s really nice. I haven’t done something that simple and family-like in a long time, and I like the way it makes me feel. Maybe staying with the Chois will help me feel a little more normal. Maybe it’ll be a good thing after all.

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My gosh. You guys certainly delivered! I checked just now and we had 32 votes! Thank you guys so much! It's nice to know that you all want more of the story :) As promised, I'm posting three chapters today, and it would be awesome if you guys could vote on all of them. We're actually #211 on the What's Hot List right now, and if we vote on all three of the chapters....maybe we'll move over the 200 line? That would be super exciting! 

Awkward Article Quote
Our history teacher handed us an article on Peron that we were reading in class 
"But in his day and awash himself in party power struggles, Juan Peron liked to compare the various warring Peronist factions to cats having sex. "It may seem like they are fighting," Peron would say, "but they are really just reproducing." " 

Who writes that in an article???? Anyway, thought I'd give you a brief break from my Econ teacher.