Tragedy brings Tatum Avery to California. There she meets handsome, alluring, bullheaded, Eli Robertson. Together they find hardship, love, and wild situations.
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"She was stunning, so much so that it was ha...
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I try my hardest to stay ready. Ready for people to make mistakes, ready for people to hurt me. That way when they do, it's no surprise.
But the one thing I would have never been ready for was the death of my mother four months ago. She died peacefully, in her sleep, like she'd wanted. I was happy her suffering ended. Or at least that's what I told myself at night to quiet my pondering mind. I knew truly that if she could endure just one more day of suffering, one more day for us to be together, I'd be content. How selfish of me, I know.
Now, as of today, I live with my stern, but loving, aunt Nadia, her husband Tommy, and their daughter Georgie. The situation still brews foreignness each morning I wake here because until the days following my mother's death, I didn't know these people existed.
Nadia showed up at my mother's funeral and stood close to me, knotting her fingers through mine like she'd known me forever. "I'm Nadia, your aunt. You'll live with me for a while, yeah?" She said lowly, her ruffled black skirt blowing breezily in the wind. Why did my mother never tell me about her? What was it that kept the two of them apart all these years? Perhaps I'd find out soon.
Tomorrow is officially my last first day of high school. What should be excitement feels more like a brick sitting dead center in my stomach, quenching every time I think about it. I hate starting
The smell of something sweet lures me out of my bedroom. When I make it halfway down the hallway, the smell intensifies. Something's baking. Muffins. No, cinnamon rolls. I hear a soft voice singing the theme song to 'Golden Girls.' I smile involuntarily, I've always loved The Golden Girls, thanks to my mom. Rounding the corner I see Georgie cutting up pieces of fruit and tossing them into a bowl. Strawberries, grapes, and bananas. My mouth waters, breakfast has always had special spot in my heart;
"Hey." I say, pulling up a seat at the bar.
She looked up smiling my way. "I was thinking we could go out today. The Sprinkle Shack has the best ice cream. One of my friends is gonna meet us there."
I take in her disheveled appearance. Her curly sandy brown hair rolled up messily into a bun, reddened cheeks, sleep still resting in the crooks of her dark eyes. I hardly recognize her some days with all the makeup she cakes onto her face.
"Sounds fun."
"It should be," She says, turning to grab the cinnamon rolls from the oven. "She's...different. I think you'll like her. But I'll tell you ahead of time, don't stare at her scar. Don't ask about it either."
I nod. I wouldn't stare at her scars, and I wouldn't ask about them. But I would definitely wonder. It's what I'm best at.
