Flipped (L.T.)

Chapter 22: My Precious

"That may be." She shrugs, strolling through the hall, observing an old picture. "But, I wouldn't mind havin' a guest."

My eyes widen with surprise at my Nan's declaration. "You'd let her stay here?" My grandma has had some wild ideas in the past but helping me house a fugitive is a first.

"Well, I cant just throw her on the street." She says sassily, rolling her eyes at me. "And besides, if they're precious to my Boobear, then they're precious to me." She beams. I think precious is a little far-fetched. I know shes somewhat important to me, but I have yet to explore more within my feelings. But even so, the fact that Eliza may be 'precious' to me, shouldn't suddenly trigger this response from her.

"You were planning this, weren't you?" I ask skeptically.

She smirks and crosses her arms. "You make me sound like an evil genius, Louis. I might've hoped, but I never planned."

"Yeah, whatever." I lightly scoff at the old woman. I know her; she did.

"Oh, and it just so happens that I called your mum and told 'er you kids were asleep. I guess that means you can spend the night too." She winks. "Keep an eye on our company."

My grandmother is a very clever and mischievous woman; and I couldn't be more thankful for it than tonight. She killed two birds with one stone with just a simple phone call, and I didn't even have to tell her. I'm glad I have people around to rely on and trust with anything.

I look back at the door, where a sleeping Eliza lays. I wonder if she has anyone like that in her life. I've always seen her as this lonely girl; her against the world since day one. As long as I've known her, Eliza's never really been close to anybody. So I wonder; whenever she gets in a spot, or finds herself in trouble, who does she think of to help her?

~

<ELIZA'S POV>

"I said to quit your stuttering woman!" His voice booms throughout the house. Even in the backyard I can hear them fussing. No matter where I go in this bloody house, I still hear some sort of ruckus.

My stepdad and my mum are arguing in the kitchen while that pea-brain Noah is off drinking somewhere in the house. I stole away into the back to do some laundry and get away from their madness.

Why is it that in my own home, I feel like an intruder, someone who just doesn't belong anywhere in the setting. Not that I want to fit in to this bullshit family but still; aren't we naturally supposed to have a place within one? And if thats so, wheres mine?

The only time I find comfort in the place is when I'm by myself, alone in the yard. Nobody but me, nature, and the lovely smell of detergent as the scent grows stronger with the wind.

My blissful time is interrupted when the back door is swung open, and a drunken idiot comes out.

Noah stumbles over the steps, nearly landing on his face. He shakes his head to try to clear his sight before his eyes focus and narrow on me.

"Hey..you." He hiccups.

"I have a name moron." I snap.

"Elly then." He says mockingly. It sounds disgusting coming from his mouth. "What the hell are you doin' out here?"

"Whats it look like." I say, hanging my blanket on the clothe's line.

"Hey! Watch your damn attitude." He hisses, loosely swinging the bottle in his hand. If he's not careful, he'll drop the damn thing, and I'll have to clean it up.