This chapter is really short but I liked it (hope you do to!)
Unedited.
Holidays are the best thing . . . ever. Not even ever . . . EVER! I don't have to do anything but write and it's so freeing [So poetic xD]. And right now I love this story. I already have the last chapter written, all I have to do is get to the end!
Enjoy . . .
___________________________________
“What happened?” Rick asks me, as soon as I sit down. “Your phone kept beeping by the way.”
I shrug, looking at his DS screen. “Nothing.” Huge lie. “Why doesn’t that have the time?”
He levels a look at me. “Because I’m playing a game.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. Make me check, why don’t you?” I mutter, the corner of my mouth turning up in a smile. I grab my phone, staring at the notifications of my screen. Five new messages. All from James. Glancing away from them screen I check the time: 2:45 p.m. I’d spent an hour in the meeting—it had felt longer.The white writing stands out against my background—just a blue pattern. No “selfie.” No group photo. No attractive guy. Totally, not what a teenager should have at all. At least my phone case is better. Dark colours with ‘HER LIFE FOR HIS’ engraved deep. Well . . . okay, maybe it’s not better. I’ve seen people look at it, seen the looks on their faces. They don’t understand it. It’s nothing to do with suicide like everyone assumes. It’s actually a line from my favourite book—
“Where are mum and dad?”
Knocking someone out. “The meeting.”
“Why did it take so long?”
I raise my eyebrow. “Why do you ask so many question?”
Rick smirks—a look that he’s perfected from watching dad. “Mum says it’s a good thing. So that means I can do it. You’ve heard dad; always listen to mum.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Remember that for when you’re older. You’ll need it. Ever heard of the cat that was too curious for its own good?”
All I get in return is a frown. “No. Is that bad?”
“Do you know what happens to the cat?”
“No.”
“It dies.” Just like the girl with cancer.
Rick gasps in outrage, expression turning into one of anger. “What? Why!”
I sigh, hugging him to me. My hand rubs up and down his back. “Calm down Rick, it’s a figure of speech. No one hurt a cat.”
He relaxes into me, still angry. “People are mean. Why would they do that? You’re not meant to hurt cats. Or dogs. People, it’s okay because they can be mean. But cats aren’t mean.”
He doesn’t know it but people don’t get hurt for being mean. I’d done nothing to get diagnosed with cancer—not that I know of anyway. “Cats scratch you. Our cat used to.”
He rolls his bright blue eyes, no longer with anger, just amusement. “Not me, just you. It wasn’t Fluffy’s fault—you annoyed her all the time. She never scratched me.”
“I did not. She was just grumpy.” I sigh, kissing his hair. He squawks, pushing me away, though he doesn’t lean out of my arms. “Now, there was a point to what I was saying. What happened to that cat, might happen to you if you ask too many questions.”
He gasps. “They’ll hurt me.”
I can’t help but smile at him; he’s just too adorable. “It’s a figure of speech. Too many questions . . .” I break off, at a complete and utter loss. “Whatever. Forget about it. You’re too young to understand.”
“So no one will hurt me?”
“No,” I say with complete seriousness. “I’ll make sure that never happens. They’ll have to deal with me. And—” I crack my knuckles, wincing at the sound, before winking at Rick, “—I can be scary.”
Rick laughs, clearly not believing a word. “No. You’re too nice. I could beat you in a fight.”
“That’s because I’d let you win,” I say with a wiggle of my eyebrows.
“You’d lose,” he says, holding up his tiny fist—well, tinier. His hand is nearly the size of mine; he’ll tower over me soon enough.
I ruffle his overgrown hair. “You wish.”
He glares, punching my side gently. I laugh pretending the blow hurts, toppling the side. “Ow, Rick! How could you?”
He smiles proudly. “See? I win.”
I laugh, ignoring the dull walls surrounding me. White walls. Boring walls. It’s my least favourite colour. Again, something cancer ruined for me. Hospital walls are white—nothing but white. Sterile. Depressing.
“What are you doing to your sister?” dad demands, a smile on his lips, as he walks our way. His shoulders are tense, but the angry look on his face disappears as his eyes land on us. The smile reaches his eyes.
Rick whines. “Dad . . .”
Dad just laughs. “Are you beating your sister up?”
Glaring at me, Rick points to me accusingly. “She started it! And I wasn’t beating her up! I’m only allowed to do that when someone tries to hurt me—you said.”
Catching dad’s eyes, I mouth, where’s mum?
His expression falls, revealing the worry he’s trying to hide, before he’s smiling again. Bathroom, he mouths back.
I nod, unsurprised by the response. Unlike dad, mum can’t fake emotion well. If she’s upset, you see her tears. If she’s mad, you can see the anger in her eyes. She has to get herself together. Either that, or . . .
Staring at dad, I hold up a fist.
He nods.
The grin on my face is almost painful, as pride fills me. I can’t quiet the small cheer. Coolest mum ever. Without a doubt.
Rick looks over sharply, staring at me in confusion. I’m too busy staring at dad to notice. The look on his face turns disapproving before he smirks, gratified.
“Dad? What’s happening?” Rick asks, eyes bouncing between us. He knows he’s missed something.
Dad shakes his head, walking over. “Nothing, son.” He glares, but the smile gives him away. “Except the fact that you were trying to beat up your sister.”
“But, dad, I wasn’t. She said she could beat me—”
I collapse in laughter, almost falling out of the chair.
Rick, apparently not appreciating it at all, glares at me, crossing his arms over his tiny chest. “You tried to get me in trouble!”
I roll my eyes, ruffling his hair. He doesn’t notice my laboured breath, but dad doesn’t miss it. I sit up, gaining my bearings again. Too late. When I look up dad’s in front of my chair, crouching down on his feet. “You okay?”
I nod, trying not to wheeze. If there’s one thing I hate about cancer—and the list is huge—it’s the fact that you can’t laugh. It hurts. I do it anyway, refusing to conform in the way cancer wants me to. “Good,” I tell him. “I’m good. Just laughed too hard.”
He frowns in concern, a hand brushing against my cheek. “Sure sweetheart?”
I nod with sincerity, keeping eye contact with him. “I wouldn’t lie to you about it, dad.”
He leans in to kiss my forehead and I catch his sad eyes. “Yeah. I know.” His beard rubs against my noise, something familiar and comforting. Dad’s never grown his beard that long but he always has one. Without it, he wouldn’t be the same dad. The most caring dad in the world despite how scary he looks.
Rick clears his throat. “Uh, dad?”
Dad glances over, hand still rubbing my knee. “Yeah, son?”
“I’m sorry,” Rick admits quietly, hyperaware of the cloud of sadness surrounding us. He’s always been able to tell.
Dad smiles softly. “Nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t hurt her.”
Rick frowns. “But— she said . . .”
I smile at him. “I was pretending.”
“Oh,” he mutters. “I feel dumb.”
Dad mock-glares at me. “You just have an awful sister.”
I raise my hands in surrender, winking at Rick. “Guilty as charged.”
He leans into me, resting his head on my shoulder. “I still love you though. Even if you suck.” Then he turns to dad. “I’m going to the museum soon.”
Dad raises an eyebrow. “You are? With who?”
“Alyson.”
My eyes cut to Rick and I stare at him, not liking the look in his eyes. It’s payback I won’t like. “Really now?”
He nods, staring straight at dad when he says, “Yes. With Alyson’s boyfriend.”
Dad stands, eyes burning into me. “Alyson?” he asks, his voice low.
I glare at Rick, wishing I could wipe off the off of his face. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Thankfully, mum chooses that moment to walk in, perfectly unaware of what just happened. Taking advantage of it, I run to her—well, more of a rushed walk. “Hey. You okay?”
She smiles at me, all the anger wiped out of her eyes. “I should be asking you that.”
I shrug, grabbing for her hands. There’s no blood on them but there is a bruise on her right hand. “Well, I’m asking you. Did it hurt?”
“A little. But it made me feel better,” she says, taking her hands back. “My right hand hurts now though. Guess I need more practice, huh?”
“Alyson,” I hear from behind me.
I ignore dad and smile at mum. I don’t want to deal with it right now. I know that he’s not angry but I’d planned to wait a little longer before bringing up. And I haven’t told Rick he’s going yet.
She frowns at me. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll hear about it later. Trust me,” I assure her. “What are you guys planning on doing?”
She just shakes her head, dragging me to the doors. “I’ll tell you at home. I need to get out of here before I lose it. I also need to ice my hand before your dad nags me even more.”
______________________________
Feedback is always welcome so comment if you want to! Don't be scared!
And vote too (only if you liked it! If you didn't then I'm sorry!)
~ Littlemmissflawed