Closets Aren't Just For Clothes...

Chapter Nineteen.

HEY, sorry it's up so late!! School sucks and you can blame my Journalism teacher, Ms. Horse-Face-Boob-Flabbin'-|3itch! Yeah, Um that's what I call her(: She hates me because I'm better than her at writing a news story and she doesn't know how to Effin write, even though she 'allegedly' worked for a newspaper? Um yeah, lady you suck!! Lol. First, she's some sort of Earth-wind-peace-hippie, because she DOES NOT where a bra!! Yeah, I said it, her hooters are hooting and they are EVERYWHERE. I get yelled at for have 'revealing shirts' BY HER, but she  can NOT wearing a bra? Yeah, that's balanced, one day I'm going to go Braless and have her yell at me so I can be like 'oh, but i got the idea from you and your saggy tits you BIZNITCH!' Anyways sorry, probably TMI, but  yeah, her class and Geometry are killing me!!

Ms. Haddock---or what I call her: Ms. Had-a-cock because I'm just that awesome! Haha... But yeah, she sucks more than. WHO THE HELL NEEDS GEOMETRY?! 'You need it for future jobs!!' she tells me. Um yeah, listen here I want to be an Editor, where in the hell am I going to have to 'prove' that a triangle is a triangle because of SIDE SIDE SIDE in the middle of editing?

ANYWAYS, SORRY FOR RAMBLING, but I get really stressed out around finals, not to mention that my personal life is busy as hell what with Christmas shopping and all the 'fun' stuff. I HATE Christmas, yeah I'm the original Grinch!! Anyways, I hate the holidays and when people ask me to 'go shopping'...yeah they get a big fat---HELL NO! I've also been banned from BED BATH AND BEYOND and the TARGET near my house!!---Don't ask, but maybe I'll include it in a story someday. Lol. Yep, I'm such a rebel that I got banned from Bed Bath and Beyond, I mean come on, HOW does that happen? Jesus hates me for sure...Haha.. I'm also banned from this gas station in Lake St. Louis because I made out---you know what I'll save that for another story too, plus you probably don't care. Lol.

ANYHOOZER, here's the chappie. Enjoy. OH and this is only the first half because I wanted to post tonight and I'll updated the next half Thursday or Friday THAT'S why none of the options from the list last time are in here..SORRY..

Chapter Nineteen.
    
    “Really?” I hear Noah ask.
    I nod against his shirt-covered chest. “Will you tell me something?” I ask.
    “That depends on what it’s about,” Noah replies and I can sense a smirk in his tone. Does it really matter? A question’s, a question.
    I sit up, straddle Noah’s lap, and look him dead in the eyes. Once I get passed his shock because of what I’m doing, I see it. I see the good side of Noah, the side that isn’t being a smartass, or the sexist asshole that makes me want to hit him. It’s just Noah.
    “Tell me something about you,” I start. “Because, if you think about it, I don’t really know anything about you. Right now, the only think I know about you, is that you wear size eleven shoe,” I finish.
    Noah chuckles. “What else is there to know?”
    “I don’t know, your birthday? Favorite color? Are you a Pepsi or Coke person? Do you use Crest or Colgate toothpaste. I mean the normal things a person would want to know?” I explain, babbling.
    “My birthday was last Friday, my favorite color is blue, I’m a Pepsi person, and I use Crest toothpaste,” he says, simply.
    I laugh, then catch on to what he said. “Wait, last Friday was your birthday?” I question. Noah responds with a nod. “Did you get anything good?”
    “A Gummy-Bear coated kiss,” he chuckles.
    Was that really only last Friday? It seems like forever ago. “So you didn’t do anything for your birthday? I mean, I didn’t even know. Does anybody know?” I ask changing the subject.
    “Yeah, they just don’t remember,” he laughs.
    I frown…that’s kind of depressing. I’d die if people forgot my birthday. “Noah, why do people think that you’re so…tough? Personally, I think that you’re kind of a softy, well, around me anyways,” I express.
    Noah smiles. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or be offended…?”
    I smile back. “It’s an offensive compliment.”
    “I bet you feel pretty good, doped-up on cold medicine and all,” He laughs.
    “It kind of feels like I just ate fifty-billion Gummy Bears and have a major sugar high, because I feel all giggly, yet I’m real sleeping feeling, but staying awake feels fun,” I explain. “Does that make sense?”
    “It’s official ladies and gentleman; Emily Aldridge is high on cold medicine!” Noah shouts into the empty house. I bust out into a fit of laughter.
    I cover his mouth with my hand and say, “SHH! The walls will hear you!” Then I giggle hysterically, dropping my hand.
    “You know, I kind of want to kiss you right now,” Noah says randomly.
    I stop giggling and think for a few seconds on what would be the best way to respond to that. “Well…I kind of want you to,” I reply. I stare at his lips, and think about kissing him, but give myself at least fifty-seven reasons why it’s wrong. “But I wouldn’t want you to get sick,” I add.
    Noah nods. “I know. I think this is the part where I say something really cliché, like; I like you so much that I’m willing to get sick, but I’m not,” he laughs.
    I laugh. “I like that you aren’t cliché, Noah. It’s a breath of fresh air.”
    “Alright, are we going to finish this movie, or what?” he questions, trying to change the topic.
    I get off of him and answer, “Let’s finish the movie.”
    “I didn’t say that you had to get off of me,” Noah grins at me.
    I sigh, “and he’s back…”
    
    I wake up to the sound of two people yelling. Oh, the joyful sounds of yelling on a Sunday morning; it’s the true sign that Jesus loves me.
    My eyes flutter open and the room is brightened by the light from the windows. I look around, but Noah’s not here, his voice is the other one that I hear yelling. The owner of the other voice is Matt. Oh, shit, they’re fighting. I throw the covers off of me, jump out of bed and shiver at the cool air.
    I start to leave, but stop and look down at myself still in Noah’s t-shirt. I decide it’s best to at least put a bra on before going down stairs.
    I travel fast down the stairs, hearing their voices getting closer, until I see them both in the living room shouting at one another. I try to listen to hear what they’re talking about, but nothing comes out clearly.
    “Will the both of you stop it?!” I yell, trying to push my way in between them, but they keep yelling. Oh my gosh, really? Is this really necessary. Do I have to open a can of Whoop-Ass on them? “Hey assholes, shut the fuck up!” I yell even louder, overpowering both of their voices. There, that worked. They’re both looking at me shocked. “Yeah, that’s right, I said fuck, you guys don’t own it!” I inform them.
    Matt looks at Noah. “What the hell did you do to her last night? I swear if you touched her, I’ll beat the shit out of you, Noah!” He shouts, starting the whole yelling process again.
    “I didn’t do shit to her last night!” Noah replies defensively. I take my attention off of Matt and look at Noah. The way it came out to me was ‘I wouldn’t have done shit to her last night’. He quickly catches on to what I’m thinking. “Not that I didn’t want to,” he tells me. For some reason that satisfies me.
    “That’s it!” Matt says, lunging towards Noah.
    “Bring it, pretty boy!” Noah responds, egging him on
    I jump in front of Matt, keeping him from doing something really stupid. “What part of knock it the fuck off do you morons not understand?” I ask them. “Quit acting like idiots, you two are brothers!” I remind them.
    “Hardly,” Noah snorts.
    I look at him. “You don’t mean that,” I say.
    Matt laughs mockingly. “You mean she doesn’t know?” he questions Noah.
    “Shut up, Matt,” Noah scolds.
    “Oh no… She knows my secret, but she can’t know yours?” Matt asks. “That’s real balanced,” he remarks sarcastically.
    “Well maybe because mine isn’t as big as being a fag,” Noah throws at him.
    “Noah!” I shout. “Say something like that again and I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
    “Ouch, Noah, that really hurt, like I give a fuck what you think,” Matt swallows.
    “You give a fuck about what everybody thinks. That’s your problem,” Noah tells him. “If you didn’t, why would you be stringing along Emi, like she’s a fucking puppet?”
    “Oh because what you’re doing is so much better,” Matt throws at him.
    “And just what would that be?” I cut in.
    Matt opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself, like he can’t tell me. Is he really keeping something else from me? Again?
    “Yeah, Matt, why don’t you tell her,” Noah challenges. “I dare you.” When Matt doesn’t say anything Noah responds, “that’s what I thought. You spill and I spill.”
    “Somebody better spill something right now!” I say. No reply from either of them.
    Noah sighs. “I’m leaving,” he announces.
    “Not if I leave first!” Matt says.
    “Screw it, I’ll leave!” I shout, heading for the front door. I don’t even know why I’m mad, I could really care less about both of them at the moment. But I feel kind of left out, they’re fighting, so why can’t I?
    I into my house and slam the door behind me, in attempt to be mad, but I probably look completely silly.
    “Emily, dear, is that you?” I hear my mom’s voice carry through the walls.
    Shit! Are they back already? I didn’t think that they’d be back for a while. Uh-oh, they cant see me like this. “Um, yeah mom, I’m going to be in my room,” I reply, quickly running to the stairs and up each step. I get in my room and close it behind me. Damn, why is it so cold in here? I ask myself, shivering. Then I spot the culprit-- the window. Who the hell left the window-- Oh yeah, Hardy. I guess that’s how he’s been getting in and out of here. I walk to the window and close it.

    After taking a long hot shower, I feel almost perfectly back to normal, I’m still a little groggy, but it’s better than yesterday. Yesterday couldn’t breath out of my nose, but now I c an breath out of one side, so that’s good news. The bad news: I probably sound like a tea-kettle.
    Once I’m out I get dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a gray kitted sweater, and I put on a pair of the ugliest fluffy socks. They’re ugly, but they keep my feet warm, I’m weird that way because when I’m sick, my feet feel really cold.
    I blow dry my hair and toss it up into a messy bun. I leave my face empty of make-up because if I cake my face with artificial toxins that have probably been tested on poor innocent animals. If I could, I would just go without make-up altogether…boy, would my mom hate that.
    I walk downstairs and hear my mom talking on the phone. I know it’s bad to eavesdrop, but I’m kind of curious as to what she’s talking about and with whom.
    “…Yes, Kathy, I understand. I do not mean to disagree with you, but I feel that you’re being a little unreasonable,” my mom says into the house phone, pausing to let the person on the other line speak. “Yes, I realize that I do not have a gay son, but if I did, I wouldn’t put him out on the streets,” my mom says.
    I stand at the top of the stairs, my mouth hanging out, on September twenty-ninth, in shock at the words that are coming out of my mothers’ mouth. Did she really just say that?
    By this time, I can tell that she’s talking to Hardy’s mom. I never even knew that my mom and his were in the same circle. Well, I guess all of the rich stuck up parents are in the same circle.
    “…So you would rather have him running all over the streets of New York, in the cold?” my mom repeats. “I’m just saying that I’ve made mistakes as a parent, but kicking my child out of the house because of something that they can’t help, will never be one of them,” she says calmly.
    That’s the most…human thing that I think I’ve ever heard my mom say. Why is she all of the sudden ‘pro-gay’? I mean, granted, she’s never expressed her opinion about it, I’ve never asked, but I assumed that she’d be like everybody else I know that’s against it. What makes her, my mother, okay with people who are gay? Not that it’s a bad thing, but its shocking and I never expected it.
    “Kathy, just listen--” she stops. “Kathy? Hello? Kathy?” she asks, then hangs up the phone, letting out a big sigh of annoyance. “Real mature…” she mumble sarcastically.
    Whoa, that was a sarcastic remark. My mom used sarcasm! Holy shit, I think hell just froze over!
    “Hi, mom,” I say quietly walking down the steps, pretending to just now be walking into the room.
    She looks at me and smiles, “How are you, Emily?” she questions.
    I’m taken aback. “Um, fine…?”
    She nods along. “Emily, I was heading to Bloomingdales, do you want to go with me?” she asks. “We can get manicures and pedicures, you know, make a girls day out of it,” she offers.
    Um…how do I respond to that? Am I supposed to jump for joy? I haven’t spent time with my mom, one on one in…three and a half years, I think. I think it was Christmas and we made cookies and that was the last mother-daughter-hallmark moment. Then her father, who is  apparently my grandfather, though I’ve only met him like twice and that was when I was little. That exact day, he called and told her that he was leaving her mother. They got a divorce and my mom spent a lot of time with my grandmother and grandfather through the whole situation. And why wouldn’t she, it’s her mother, she had to be a good daughter. That’s when my mother stopped being a mom and started being a dictator.
    “Sure…” I say to her.
    “Great!” she smiles cheerfully. “I’ll go get my purse and then we’ll go.” My mom walks around me and heads to the master bedroom.
    “Okay…” I trail off.
    How…? What…? I can’t even finish a question on what’s going on here? What the hell is this? Confuse the Hell Out of Emi Day? First, Matt and Noah and now my mother? I’m just…in shock. I got in the middle of a Fletcher fight and left completely confused. Now I’m about to go shopping at Bloomingdales and get Mani-Pedi’s with my mom, left completely confused.
    I don’t know how much longer I can take being left in the dark. Why is it that I’m never the first to know things? Noah’s even keeping stuff from me, both of those ass-hold Fletcher’s are. Of all the things that they could’ve been talking about this morning, I know that whatever it was, has something to do with me. And I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

*****

SO? Do you like it??

Btw, I got a new editor, so if there are mistakes, it's her fault---haha,,ya it's my best friend Google Gina---we call her that because the chickk GOOGLES everything. Do you know how much cottage cheese is produced in a year? Well, she would Google it. Anyways. YEAH! Lol.

Sorry, i'm like ADD right now!

LEAVE A COMMENT AND I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART. Me+comments from you= Longer chapters(:

UNTIL NEXT TIME THINK ABOUT THIS:  Why is it illegal to park in handicapped parking spaces if you aren't handicapped, but it's okay to use a handicapped toilet even if you aren't handicapped?!

Btw, some of you crack me up when you get all logical with your reasoning.  Like with the speed of dark one...you guys flipped my buscuit. But  can you travel just as fast in the dark as you can when it's light out. Idk about you, but I speed when i'm driving in the dark.  Lol.

BYEE!!

<3JustKaylay.