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"Oh my God, I finally made it," Olive heaved a sigh of relief.

"I love this movie so freaking much." I grinned.

"I'll never watch anything like that ever again!"

I shook my head.

I made her watch Evil Dead and let's get the facts straight, Olive wasn't a fan of horror movies, but I loved them. We used to fight over who would select the movies, so we came to an agreement--we both got to choose our favorite movies on alternate weeks. She always selected sappy romantic films, which bored me to death.

"Olive, it's just a movie," I chuckled.

She picked up a cushion and clutched it against her chest. Her eyes scanned the living room as she moved back and forth. To be honest, I was kind of enjoying watching her and I couldn't believe someone could find horror movies so repulsive.

"I don't think I'll be able to go for a pee alone," she murmured.

"Okay that's it. Don't be so childish!"

Rolling my eyes at her, I picked up a big slice of my extra cheese pizza from the box and devoured half the slice in one bite. The cheese melted on my tongue and I savored every flavor.

Olive snickered, "Lizzie, you eat like a pig." 

Hearing the creak of the door, both of us snapped our heads in the opposite direction. Olive widened her eyes and I swallowed hard. 

The doorknob turned with a swift motion and as soon as someone pushed the door open, we both started to scream. 

With all her strength, Olive threw a cushion at that person.

"What are you girls doing in here?"

I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. 

It was my mom. How silly of me! It seemed Evil Dead made me forget the usual time my mom returned from her office. 

She picked up the light blue cushion from the floor and walked up to us. 

Smoothing out her white shirt, she sat down on the couch in front of us and placed her shopping bags on the table. 

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Roberts. We were watching Evil Dead, so I was scared," Olive said sheepishly.

Mom smiled, "It's okay." 

I furrowed my brows. 

There was something wrong with mom because she wasn't talking about how tired she was. Instead, she was fiddling with her fingers, not even looking at me. Mom was so quiet and believe me she isn't a quiet person at all. 

I watched as she poured some water from the jug for herself and gulped it down.

"How was your day?" I asked.


I raised my eyebrows at her. "Nice, just nice? Won't you whine about the annoying customers or the over smart colleagues?" 

She rubbed her face with her hands and looked straight into my eyes. "I've a surprise for you."

I knew it!

"Oh, I like surprises," Olive smiled at me.

Only if she knew about mom's surprises. On my fifteenth birthday, she had surprised me with her terrific gift--a collage of all her photographs. Only the morning before she had surprised me with her delicious broccoli sandwiches for breakfast.

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