Happy Everly After

Chapter 20

I sat curled up on my bed, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees. My mind was tormenting me. Feeling the way I did, I should've been having lovely relaxing dreams about being smothered by cute puppies or something else inoffensive. But instead, I found myself in a restless state, tossing and turning as the hours ticked by. Frustration drove me to reach for my phone in the darkness, flipping it back on to check the time. 03:20am glared back at me, mocking me. Defeated, I flopped back onto my pillow and covered my eyes with my arm. At least it was Saturday, and I didn't have to wake up early.

I drifted back off to sleep, then my slumber was interrupted by the mouth-watering smell of breakfast cooking. My mother must have known how exhausted I was and let me sleep in. As the aroma wafted into my room, my stomach growled in hunger. Quickly throwing on my fluffy blue dressing gown, I practically skipped down the stairs.

"Morning sleepyhead!" My mum greeted me with a warm smile as she turned up the radio and moved around the kitchen with effortless grace. She expertly plated food and tidied up dishes while dancing along to the music.

Just as I was about to dig into a crispy strip of bacon, my mum grabbed my hand and spun me around in a playful waltz.

"Hey!" I laughed, twirling away from her grasp.

Grabbing a spatula as she reached for a spoon, we both belted out lyrics (albeit poorly) and danced together in the kitchen. But suddenly, a wave of sadness hit me, and I sat back down at the table. This used to be our little family ritual, but now it was just the two of us.

My mum noticed my change in mood when she no longer heard me singing along.

"You, okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, just tired", I mumbled, trying to brush off the bittersweet memories of my parents dancing around the kitchen while I made faces at them. I had taken those moments for granted and now I missed them dearly.

As I hungrily shovelled food into my mouth, my mum watched me with a mix of disgust and amazement.

"You don't need to inhale your food like you haven't eaten in weeks", she scolded playfully. "And where do you put it all? I've never seen someone eat so much and stay so slim".

"Good genes, I guess", I replied with a cheeky grin as I wiped my mouth.

"Definitely not from my side of the family", she joked, pinching her hips.

"Mum, you look great for your age", I reassured her.

"For my age?" she scoffed, throwing a tea towel at me.

I paused for a moment before changing the subject. "I think I'd like to go see dad tomorrow".

"That's a great idea", she said, slightly surprised but supportive.

With that settled, I headed upstairs to get ready. Charlotte would be picking me up soon. I really needed to learn how to drive, but for now, it wasn't an option.

After telling my mum that there would be a few friends over, to make it sound more innocent than it actually was, we were actually going to Isaiah's house. She didn't mind me going to parties, but she definitely wouldn't approve of the kind of party Isaiah threw - filled with alcohol and often getting out of hand. Last time there was even a fight and the police had been called by the neighbours. It was surprising that his parents allowed him to have another party. Or maybe they didn't know.

As the door creaked open, I heard my mum's voice in awe over Charlotte's outfit. We had decided to skip our usual shopping trip and instead, I would borrow something from her wardrobe. She was always irritatingly organised. She'd often be waiting impatiently while I faffed about. She was ready, her hair in perfect beach waves and her makeup made her eyes sparkle. Her blue eyes were a much darker shade than Owen's, yet just as striking.

"Gorgeous as ever", I complimented as I caught sight of her on the landing.

"Thanks, I have the perfect outfit in mind for you", she replied with a sly grin that made me suspicious. It disappeared quickly when my mum looked at us both.

"So, where's this shin dig at?" my mum asked.

"Mother, please don't call it that. It's just a small gathering at a friend's house from dance class".

I purposely neglected to mention Isaiah's name, knowing he had gained quite the reputation among parents. Charlotte and I exchanged knowing looks, silently agreeing that it was a wise decision.

After giving my mum a hug goodbye, we headed to Charlotte's house. The party wasn't until later in the evening, so we decided to spend some time together beforehand. Charlotte suggested giving me a makeover, which I wasn't particularly excited about. Our styles were complete opposites - she loved glitz and glamour while I preferred comfort and simplicity - and I couldn't imagine going back to being dressed up all the time.

As we entered her home, we were greeted by her mum who was completely engrossed in her cleaning routine and barely acknowledged our presence.

"Don't make a mess up there, girls!" she called after us as we made our way upstairs.

"She's driving me insane", Charlotte muttered, her brow furrowed. I sat on the edge of her bed as she joined me, looking troubled.

"We're thinking of getting her some help", she confided in a low voice. "She keeps insisting she's fine, but it's obvious she's not".

I could relate to that.

"I think that's a good idea", I reassured her, giving her a warm hug. She offered a small smile and redirected the conversation to the task at hand - choosing my outfit for the evening. I took the hint that further discussion about her mum was off-limits, and we focused on finding the perfect ensemble instead.