Ode to Bree

Trust

Unedited Chapter One [2]

a/n: if you're wondering, this is the second half of chapter one. It will be like this for the remaining chapters c: Thanks for reading!

       "Sorry," Nathan mumbled roughly as someone bumped into his shoulder. He thought they should be saying sorry instead (of course, he was always looking around and trying to avoid moving into people), but when he saw the frail girl in front of him, looking like a scared rabbit, he softened his expression.

       "No, it's fine. I wasn't looking where I was going," she replied in a whisper-like voice.

       Nathan smiled at her, but she looked away shyly, her long, black hair swaying over her shoulders. She seemed to be about his age. The Lion's Den was no place for a shy girl like her—it was called the Lion's Den for a reason.
       A hand lands on the girl's shoulder, making her jump. Nathan looked up at the guy: straight and sharp features, from his jaw to the tip of his nose; Nathan knew him, but he couldn't put his finger on why he knew him, nor could he think of a name.

       The man glares down at the girl, and shoots Nathan a dirty look, before pushing the girl forward.

       Maybe it was her boyfriend; Nathan didn't have time to care. He had other problems to think of, like how he was going to figure out a way to find 'inspiration' and 'motivation'. He could write songs about his shitty family problems, and songs about lost loves, but he figured there were a lot of those lying around the place (he could still try).

       The lights were on in the house; Nathan didn't expect his dad to be home, since he normally worked from six in the evening till six in the morning. The only means of transportation they both had were two bicycles and public transportation, so the silver car parked out in front of their house seemed suspicious to the boy.

       He slid off his trainers and shook off his damp jacket (the rain drizzled softly outside. He hoped he didn't catch a cold). Voices were coming from the living room: male and female. One belonged to his father, and the other of a woman whom was fairly familiar to him.

       His mother, Catherine.

       He didn't want to believe it was her, but once he stepped into the room unannounced and saw her short blonde hair, and the blue eyes that seemed like the same blue eyes that stared back at him through the foggy mirror every morning, he opened his mouth to say something, but found himself being muted by his father.

       "Nate," he said, his voice laced with nervousness. The man shifted in his seat nervously, glancing over at his ex-wife and his teenage son.

       "Nathan... It's been so long. God, you've grown so much!" She smiled brightly at him, but Nathan turned his eyes cold towards her.

       "Why is she here?" He asked his father, tearing his eyes away from her. If he looked any longer, maybe he'd see himself somewhere in there. He didn't want to.

       "She is your mother," his father replied sternly.

       "She lost that right the day she left. So tell me, what is she doing here?"

       Nathan felt his pulse quicken; twelve years later, she she's sitting in their living room, looking the same just as she did on that day. His father told him that it wasn't his fault, but when something goes wrong, you have to find someone to blame, right? So, he blamed her. She was the one that gave up. She was the one that didn't want them anymore.

       "Watch your tone, young man!" He was accustomed to his father pointing a finger at him and speaking in a low, angry voice. It was supposed to scare him into behaving, but it was the same kind of voice he used with her all the time, so he was used to hearing it. "Your mother is here because I asked her to be here."

       "Your father and I have agreed on becoming a family again," the woman said in a feeble voice.

       Nathan looked back at his father, whom had his hands clasped and eyes to the floor. Why couldn't he look up at his son?

       "After twelve years? Really?"

       Catherine sighed and bit her lip, contemplating what to say. To Nathan, although she looked pretty young, he could see how dull her eyes had gotten. He noticed the same with his father's. Both of his parents were pretty young, since they had him when they were just teenagers.

       "I would appreciate it if you could have dinner with us," his father said.

       "No," Nathan said flatly.

       He was prepared for a hollering and/or an extremely long grounding, but when his father rose to speak, his mother quieted him.

       "It's fine, James," Catherine smiled at the man, then over at her son.

       The fine lines in her face weren't all that prominent, but he could see that it was nothing more than a sad smile to get him to sympathize with her. He didn't want to. He hated her. He wanted nothing to do with her. He was fine before she showed up.

       But she was his mother.

       Most kids with divorced parents would be jumping for joy if they decided to get back together, but Nathan considered his mother as a liar and a cheat, and growing up, he was taught that he should never trust a liar and a cheat, because people like that can never change.

       How was he supposed to know if she'll just up and leave again when he's finally welcomed her back into his heart and home. He has never had his heart broken by another before, nor does he let it happen; how can he trust her, his own mother?

       "I know it's going to take awhile," Catherine said to her son, "but I really do want to be a part of your lives again. I'm grateful that your father is willing, but I can wait for you, Nathan. You're my son, and I love–," before she could even finish her sentence, Nathan turned abruptly and stormed off to his room upstairs.

       He didn't want to hear her say it, that she loved him. If she loved him, then why did she leave him?

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