Dear Emmett

Chapter Four - [Paris.]

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I'm so glad you guys are liking this story. I've wanted to do another teen pregnancy for a while, there were many things in the last one I wanted to do differently. I wrote it so long ago...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm at work writing most of this literally doing nothing work related. So why not make you guys happy? Please tell me what you think:) Also, do NOT write comments with just “Update” or “Update now!” or anything like that. Not only will that not get me to update any faster, it's a little rude and it's a huge pet peeve. LOVE YOU GUYS!

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Wednesday morning came too swiftly for my liking.

Katie and I had said our tearful goodbye the night before. The plane was leaving very early, and I was afraid if I had to say my farewells to her right before I left I'd bolt. She had been the only thing holding me down, and now I was scared I would float away.

Before Aunt Lauren and I left, I hoped that my mother and Chris wouldn't be awake. I hated Chris more than ever, and I felt betrayed by my mother. I didn't want to be around either one of them at the moment. It wasn't that I didn't love Aunt Lauren. Of course I did, and I knew that I would enjoy the time I would spend with her.

But to ship me off, just like that? That hurt.

“Are you sure you should be drinking coffee?”

Chris had entered the kitchen, and my mind wandered to the morning he walked in on me in the kitchen before they knew what was going on. I shook the memory off, twisting the cap on my travel mug and shouldering my way past him.

“It's decaf,” I said stiffly.

I had no interest in being friendly to him, or even being somewhat decent. As far as I'm concerned, my mother's cold hearted husband could get lost. But causing drama on the morning I left wasn't something I was really interested in doing.

“Do you have everything, honey?”

My mother touched my arm gently as I walked into the living room. My heart squeezed in my chest, and I found myself unable to be mean to her. As pissed as I was, the strings that were tugging at my heart wouldn't let me be mean to her.

Movers had came the day before to get all of my stuff. All I had with me was a carry on bag with my laptop, my iPhone and a few books.

“Yeah, Mom, I've got it,” I answered, trying to give her the best impression of a smile.

I felt like I was being swept under the rug here. Like I was a problem that needed to be fixed or hidden. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, hoping my mother wouldn't notice that I was trying to keep it together.

I was pretty hurt.

“We better get going, Charlotte,” Aunt Lauren said softly. My mother and Aunt Lauren seemed as if they were walking on egg shells around me, afraid I'd crack if they said the wrong thing to me. I hugged my mother, wrapping my arms tightly around her.

“I love you, Charlotte.”

I pulled back, wiping away the couple of tears that fell.

“I love you too,” I said honestly.

Was I upset with her? Of course I was. But that didn't mean I didn't love her. Her relationship with my step father (if you could call him that) was making her view hazy. She just wanted to do what was best for me, even if her judgment was clouded, her intentions were good.

“We'll call you when the plane lands in Houston.”

The town that she lived in was small. It was about an hour south west of Houston, a little town called Paris. I had never been to Texas. When I saw my Aunt Lauren, she had always come to us in California. I thought it was a bit ironic – such a small town named Paris.