My true love!! Unedited

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Chapter 12

As I pulled in to Tommy drive way, I can see his mom walking to the car. She looked at me and smiled. Waving to me she got in her car and pulled off. His mother was beautiful. She stands about 5'6, long beautiful blonde hair, soft vanilla skin, ocean blue eyes, and she has a model's body. Most girl's would have a "female crush" on some famous women, but my female crush is Tommy's mom. Most boys our age define her as a "hot piece of ass." But his father is like, damnnnn. I mean really...DAMN!!! His dad has brown hair, soft blue eyes, tan skin, a slender but musclar body, and stands about 6'1. He has a little sister who is one of my many friends, but I treat her more like a little sister. She has brown hair (which she died red), brown eyes, stands about 5'1, and has a petite body. She's in the same grade as Anthony and don't have many friends. She hangs out with me and my friends, and we all enjoy her company. All except Sasha.

I swing my car door up and step out. As the sent of freshly cut grass, oak tree, and fresh air fill my nose, all my problems seem to disappear. Closing the door and locking my car, I walk up the Tommy's front door. Just as I was about to ring the doorbell, the door comes flying open. 

"Hello Jessica. Thomas' is in his room." Mr.Miller said rushing past my in his blue scrubs. He most be going to work.

"Thank you, Mr.Miller. Oh, and whats the rush?" I asked turning to look at him. 

"I got to get to the hospital. My patient is having her baby and she wants me to be deliver it, noone else." He says getting in his car and pulling off.

I walk in the house closing the door behind me. When I get to the top of the stairs I see Tommy's little sister Brenda walking from their indoor library to her room with a book in her hand. "Hey Brenda." 

"Oh, hey Jessica. I didn't know you were coming today. I thought you were sick, that's what Taliah told me." She said looking up from the cover of her book.

"I was sick. I got over it a little though. My stomach still hurts." I said forcing a smile.

"Oh. I came by your house after practice for the school play was over, but your mom answered the door and said you weren't there. I think there's something wrong, she was crying and could barely talk. Let alone stand up on her own. She had to use the door for support, and your dad had to stand behind her. Everytime she let go, he had to catch her."

Hearing this broke my heart. I didn't mean to hurt her this bad. I was talking mostly out of anger. "Did my dad seem mad?" 

"No, more like  he was confused about why she was crying so much." She said looking back up from the book she was holding. Brenda was a beautiful girl and her long red hair complimented her features, but she was the type of girl who liked to read a lot and likes to do her work. She is a straight A student and she don't mess around when it comes to her school work. This reason alone is why nobody really wants to hang around with her. Don't get me wrong, she got friends besides me and my girls but not as much as you would think she has when you look at her. The kids in my school don't really hang around her because they think she's a goody goody, and they like to do bad stuff. They think she would tell on them or something. In fact, during the summer the first thing she does is do the summer reading so it can be over and done with. When she finishes it, she's a lot of fun. As long as she don't have school work to do, and is being kept active she's not the goody goody people think she is.

She's not the type of girl to get picked on at school. I mean despite the fact that the kids don't want to hang around her, they are nice to her. They would be nice to her and stuff, they just wouldn't want to hang around her a lot (because of the fact that they think she'll get them in trouble). Like I said before, she is beautiful and her goody two-shoes 'status' don't stop the boys from hitting on her and asking her out. She's had plenty of boyfriends before.

"Ok. Thank you!" I said giving her a hug and walking toward Tommy's room.