Chapter Seven
❝ the very essence of romance is uncertainty ❞
;
Oscar Wilde
Today was the day. And shit I didn't tell mom about it yet.
After Adam dropped me home last night at eleven, I found mom already in dreamland on her desk, a pencil stuck in her bun. I decided to resort to Vanessa for help.
Me: we're going 2day.
VanBae: finally beeotch wat time??
I bit on my fingernails and prepared myself for what was to come next. Vanessa had the power to be an earful even through text.
Me: i haven't told mom abt it yet.
Five minutes passed without her replying. Then ten. Then twenty. What the Hell happened to her? The phone house rang from somewhere. And since we rarely use our phone house, it took me a good thirty seconds to find it in our living room.
"I got it!" I shouted. It was probably Van overreacting again. "Hello?"
Someone breathed heavily on the other end of the line. It was like a bull was breathing on the phone. "You lazy dog. I had everything packed already, I told my mom about it and pretty much my neighbors know that I'm going on a road trip and you can't even tell your mom about it sooner?"
My eyes rolled to the back of my head. She's not normally like this. One time, we decided to prank her for April Fools, well, that didn't end as expected but trust me, she's the best friend I could ever have. "I was supposed to tell her yesterday but it slipped my mind."
"'Slipped my mind' my ass. You were probably hanging out with Adam doing love-y dove-y stuff." I heard a 'thud' and a string of colorful words after that.
"We were not!" My cheeks heated up. "I had work with him, for your information."
Van groaned, the sound similar to a groaning whale. "Great. Working together. Is that what you call dating nowadays? I'm surprised the customers didn't puke out their buns."
"For the second time and last time-"
"We're not together yadda yadda yadda," she mimicked me. Can I have another best friend with a side of fries, please? True friends are the best thing a person could ever have in the world but too much can be a deadly medicine. I've se- "I'm coming over."
Wait, what? Crap. "Vanessa? Van?" I frantically said but the beeping of the phone was what replied to me
One thing I've learnt from my years of friendship with Van: never let her talk to anybody's parents. Never. And by never, I meant, never ever. Deadly things might occur. One hundred percent tested.
I silently prayed in my head. Loud footsteps resonated throughout the house as mom entered the living room in her fluffy white robe, her hair up in a towel and her face was lathered with God-knows-what substance. "Everything okay?"
No. Absolutely nothing is okay. I cleared my throat and plastered on a smile. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. Why wouldn't it be? Have you had breakfast yet? Do you want me to cook anything? I have some leftover toast in the kitchen."
"I, ah- what?" Mom confusingly stammered, obviously surprised by my outburst. "Harper, are you okay? Are you sick?" Someone knocked on the door. How on Earth did Van got here that quick? I began to pull mom to the kitchen. "There's someone on the door, Harper."
I laughed uneasily, brushing her away. "Nah, that's just probably the milkman. Here," I handed her my still-hot toast. "I'm going to check who that is." Then I ran to the door like a madman. With Vanessa, one must always be prepared. "Vanessa, I swear I will kill y-"
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Teen Fiction|| The Global Awards Winner: Best of Awards: Teen Fiction || ❝It's your turn to prove just how much you love him.❞ What I didn't know was I might have been too late already. All I said was, ❝I don't know how.❞ Then and there, I had my answer. *...
