When Stars Collide

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

I jogged down the stairs with my headphones in, ready for my free day to begin. I had an awesome serene day planned ahead of me of pure Brittany time. No troubles, no distractions.

I hopped in my car and plugged my phone in, placing it on shuffle. First stop, my mom's place and that was going to be a long drive that required music.

As I turned onto the main road I started to tap my fingers to the beat of Scream by Michael and Janette Jackson. It's a little old, but who doesn't love a little Jackson flavor in their daily musical diet? Soon enough my hands had found their way to the volume control and the music was booming in the car. I was now in my own little world.

"Stop pressuring me! Stop pressuring me!" I sang along with the music. Traffic was low given the early time in the morning on a Sunday making for an easy blissful cruise. I reached up to adjust the mirror, a habit i had picked up from driving my uncle's old car for the first six months of having a license since his mirror shifted all the time. "Stop pressuring me, makes me wanna scream!" I glanced up in the rear view mirror and let out a barrier breaking scream as I slammed my foot down on the brake.

Thank God, there was no one behind me.

I took a deep breath before pulling over to the side of the road and turning to the backseat to pull out a giant stuffed bear with a red heart stitched to the front of it. I squeezed the bear harder than necessary when a message written on the inside of the tag in messy hand writing caught my eye. "From Tom, With love" it read, or at least I think it did.

A small growl escaped my lips as I threw open the driver door and stalked over to the trunk of the car. I stuffed the poor defenseless bear in the middle of the spear tire. "I love you," it sighed on impact. "Will you be mine?" I rolled my eyes and slammed the trunk shut, ready to forget about it and its sender.

xxx

"Mom! I'm home!" I shouted as I entered the small house, perfect size for my small mother.

It was nine in the morning by time I reached Mom's house, just in time for breakfast. I followed the smell of fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon to the kitchen to be taken by surprise. Instead of seeing my mom, all five feet of her clad in her fuzzy socks, baggy pajama pants, oversized tee, and her favorite red apron, I saw the very same apron on a thinner yet thick body about the same height with flattened dark brown hair pulled back into a pony tail wearing tweety bird pajama pants and a tank top.

"Ow!" The young girl hissed as she jumped back and sucked on her singed finger. "Damn oil!" She groaned.

"I thought Mom taught you better than to swear?" I teased. "It's so unladylike."

The young girl whipped around, locking her big brown eyes with mine. "Britt!" She squealed as she ran at me full force. "Mom didn't tell me you were coming today."

"Why would she? I always come over on Sundays, Coleen. It should be a part of your natural routine on Sundays to see me." I replied as I hugged her back.

Coleen pulled back and put her hands on her hips. "Well if it was, I sure would have cooked for you." She said.

I rolled my eyes, playfully. "Like I'd want to eat your burnt alien substances you call food."

My little sister gasped and replied, her mouth agape, "That's so mean! Mom says I'm a great cook!"

"Yeah, but it's a mom's job to say nice things that might not be true." I said as I flicked her nose as I passed her on my way over to the bacon she had sitting on a plate to the side. I snatched one up and plopped it in my mouth. Surprisingly, it was perfect, not too crispy but not too chewy, just how I like it. But I wasn't going to tell her that. I whipped around and added, "Isn't that true?"