Heyo, hiya, I'm getting quicker at updating! Only two weeks this time, compared to like three or more months. Anyhow, this chapter is dedicated to the winner of 2nd place in the two year anniversary MRSR contest, PhoenixDoll, for her amazing drawing of a scene from the "He Was Looking Right Through Me" chapter. I absolutely love this drawing, which can be found through the external link if you would like to see it!
In some more good news, MRSR just reached four million reads a few days ago! That's insane, thanks everyone!
Now, getting down to business.
Chapter 33: The Wrath of Millie Addison
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Hailey's Point of View
Drew wakes me the next day with kisses that taste of lingering coffee and a gentle shake of the shoulders, "Hailey," he whispers, as I'm enveloped in the white folds of his bedsheets, "Hailey, wake up."
My eyelids flutter open, reluctant to awaken as the sun begins to peek over the horizon, reflecting yellowing strands through the window. After our brief conversation in the car had come to a conclusion yesterday, the rest of the afternoon was a blur filled with bliss, a happy ending to an overly exhausting present. Drew had carried the loudly-snoring Ally from the car to her bedroom, where she continued her well-deserved rest, and afterwards, Drew and I waltzed around the house, talking to one other and stealing the occasional kiss before his parents finally returned home from the car shop.
As soon as Drew heard the rumble of his motorcycle outside in the driveway, his expression lightened, his smile widening, his entire being filling with excitement. His dad had brought it home from the record store, just like he had promised. Drew and I met his parents at the door, both thinking the same thing- but Drew was the one who said it aloud, "Was anything damaged? How does it look over there?"
His parents released a simultaneous sigh of relief, "Everything's good." His mom had said, smiling over at her son, looking weary. Then, she handed him his keys, which his dad had given her after walking through the door. "Your bike might need a little work though."
Drew scrunched his nose at her words, "Motorcycle, mom, motorcycle." She laughed at him, just rolling her eyes. His dad had already made his way to the kitchen counter, sorting through some mail.
"Anything from Kyle?" Drew's mom asked, turning in her husband's direction when she heard the shuffling of paper. Drew doesn't do it intentionally, but I see him tense beside me. I reach for his hand.
"Nope," he responds, "nothing here."
And then, the rest of the night ensues. Ally lugs her feet one by one down the stairs, a disheveled, disoriented mess when it's time for dinner. And afterwards, when the moon is high in the sky and Drew and I find ourselves yawning at the same time, we retreat into his bedroom to fall asleep. He finds his spot on the floor, which I secretly despise, wishing he was beside me, our limbs tangled together, as I conform to the contours of his mattress.
It's cold without him.
And after almost an hour in the dark, where our once tired personas have exchanged themselves for muddled, thought-provoked minds, we finally decide it's okay to admit neither of us is sleeping.
"Drew," I breathe, hoping my voice can find him through the stillness of the sleeping house. I almost tell him to come lay beside me, but then I'm reminded of his parent's rules, and stop myself. Instead, I settle for, "Are you awake?"
I know he is. The floorboards creak as he shifts upon them, turning to look towards me. He's wrapped in his own set of blankets. I scoot to the edge of the bed so that I can see him too, or at least see his silhouette. The wind howls in the background, finding its way through the window that Drew likes to keep open.
"I can't sleep," he says, before laughing to himself, "silence is too loud."
But now, the night has passed. The moon has disappeared, hiding away, letting the sun revel in its beautiful, bright glory. And Drew is still shaking my shoulders, peppering my cheeks with gentle kisses, "Hailey," he sings for a third time, all too quiet. It only makes me want to fall back asleep. I grasp the blankets that are tucked around me and pull them over my face, refusing to let go of the darkness that accompanied the stars only a few hours before.
"Five more minutes, mom." I tease him, to which he gives a very flat and unamused, ha-ha.
He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, poking at my toes that stick out from under the sheets. I squirm, trying to get away. He waits a moment, contemplating my stubbornness, before heaving a hefty sigh from his insides. "Sorry Millie," he apologizes in an overly loud, sarcastic tone. I want to plug my ears, until I hear the mention of Millie's name, and look out from over the top of the sheets. I'm half expecting her to be there- blonde hair and polished fingernails- standing next to him, but when I glance in his direction I take note of the phone pressed against his ear, "looks like Hailey rather lay in bed all day than talk to you."
"Hey!" I shout, laughing, now crawling out from my comforting cave over to Drew so I can snatch the phone from his hand. Once I grab it from him, hitting him on the shoulder and giving him a death glare, he grins with satisfaction, and I pout, knowing I've given him the exact reaction he was looking for.
He ruffles his dark hair through his fingers and adjusts his pajamas before giving me a quick wave, walking swiftly towards the door, leaving me privacy to talk to Millie. I stick my tongue out at him as he makes it down the hall and goes back downstairs, but he doesn't see it, his footsteps clumsy and misplaced.
Then, I hold the phone up to my ear, anticipating the lecture I'm about to receive but wincing when Millie begins all the same, "What the actual hell, Hailey!" she shouts into the receiver, just getting started, "Thanks for dropping off the face of the planet!" I know she's only joking, a typical type of Millie reaction, but I give into her dramatics anyhow.
"I know, I know," I tell her, "I haven't called in a few days, I'm a horrible best friend."
"The worst!" She hollers, her words as sharp as knives, voice full of fire, "If I hadn't called you, I would've had gray hair by the next time I heard from you. Old and shriveling. Probably in a nursing home."
I chuckle, imagining her flustered, hands thrown up in the air. "I'll make it up to you." I try, but she just scoffs.
"I know you will." She replies, and then I finally understand why she's called in the first place- she wants something. I don't answer her, knowing she's about to continue, "That's why you're going to get up out of the bed, take a break from making out with your boyfriend, and get ready. We're going shopping."
I groan as an immediate reaction, my shoulders slouching, my lips twisting into a frown. Millie knows I hate shopping, and that's why she felt the need to guilt trip me before letting me in on the plan. "Millie," I begin to protest, but she doesn't listen.
"No, Hailey, you're not getting out of this one. I'll be by to pick you up in an hour, so be ready, or I'll drag you out of the house as you are."
Before I have time to respond, the line clicks, and I'm left sitting in Drew's room, a bundle of sheets and pajamas, wishing that I could disappear.
_
In exactly one hour, there's an over exaggerated honk that screeches in the front yard, beckoning me away from Drew's house and into Millie's car. Drew, after hearing my plans for the day, decided he would take the opportunity to go to the car shop and fix a few parts on his motorcycle, like his mom had mentioned previously.
Luckily, his parents left hours before I had ever even woken up, or else Millie making her grand entrance into the driveway would have left my cheeks burning, a hot, flushed, and very embarrassed red, which almost makes an appearance anyhow.
But, as I give Drew a kiss goodbye and make my way down the pavement, I surprise Millie, because I have a small companion at my side.
I help Ally into the backseat of Millie's car as she decides not to greet me, a wave of blonde hair with a lipstick smothered frown, cold eyes staring me down once I make my way around and buckle into my own seat.
Silence fills the air. A few seconds pass. Then, there's a deep breath, and, "Are you serious, Hailey? Who is this kid?"
But, before I can even begin to move my lips, words forming sentences, Ally answers her with a soft tone, "I'm Drew's sister, Ally." Then, she pauses, taking a moment to think, "And don't worry, I'm not a kid. I turn six this weekend."
Millie still looks confused, wide-eyed and incomprehensible. So this time, I offer up an explanation of my own as she reaches for the steering wheel, pulling onto the road, "She saw me getting ready and asked where I was going, so I invited her to come along."
I expect her to be irritated, or maybe sigh and roll her eyes and complain a few more times, but she doesn't. Instead, she makes a decision, her frown curling into a smile as she turns around and glances back at Ally, asking, "Well, do you like shopping?"
Ally's face lights up as she wiggles in her seat, "Are you kidding? I love shopping. Me and my mom go shopping all the time."
Millie then looks back out onto the road, grinning, but not before adding in a sarcastic tone, "I already like her better than you, Hailey."
_
The path to downtown is permanently etched into my mind, as though its been written onto my skin, a road of connect the dots, twisting and turning, starting and ending. I've been down this way so many times this summer, that I could almost close my eyes and still picture it perfectly, clear and intact.
But, we're not headed downtown. Instead, upon my nervous request, a spur of the moment decision, we've been driving towards a house- a house that I've been avoiding, a house that I haven't stepped inside of since the night with too much rain and too many tears.
My house. My home.
It seems too strange to call it that, parallel, the words stinging in my throat and feeling heavy in my stomach, as though I've never belonged there, as though I never really existed.
At first, ten minutes through the car ride, Millie and I were making light conversation. She was contemplating on what stores we should pass by or head towards, I was nodding and following along, and in the background Ally was tapping her fingers, her head bobbing up and down with the hushed music flowing from the radio and through the speakers.
But then, I decided to ask the question, "So, what's the occasion?"
At first, she acted as though she had no idea what I was talking about, a topic gone amiss, so I pressed further, changing my tactics, "Whose the guy, Millie?" And after I mentioned it, she could hardly contain herself, bursting at the seams.
"I promised myself I wouldn't tell anyone," she says, her voice squeaking, but it's almost too obvious that she was waiting for me to bring it up. She doesn't just go shopping out of the blue- she's a planner, an organizer. Everything has a purpose, a goal, a reason. "But I met a guy the other day, and god, Hailey, he's gorgeous."
She has to pause, as though she's reliving the moments in her mind. "He's tall, dark haired. Really nice, you would totally like him, and-"
Although, her sudden stop is so abrupt that I almost wonder if she ever began in the first place, but either way, I prompt her to continue, "And what, Millie?"
She waits a bit before answering, picking and choosing the right words, "He's mature."
I frown, because by mature, she means old.
"Jesus, Millie," I cry out, wondering if this could possibly get any worse, "How much older is he?"
She's quick to respond, almost too quick, "He's in his twenties, Hailey."
But I don't believe her, feeling the sudden urge to yank the steering wheel and pull the car over, to get to the bottom of this. Instead, I ask again, "How old is he, really?"
She nearly holds her hands up in defense, but stops herself, gripping the wheel even tighter in frustration, "Honest to god Hailey, he's in his twenties. But I knew what you would say, that's why I didn't want to tell you."
I sigh, knowing she's right but not wanting her to be, "It's not that I wouldn't approve or anything, but Millie, you're only eighteen."
"Legal age." She reminds me, and my frown deepens.
"I know that," I tell her, "But do you really think that a twenty-some year old wants to date a teenager? I just want you to be realistic Millie- you're gonna get hurt."
"That's not fair," she pouts, "I can tell the difference between genuine and not genuine. And even if I couldn't, it's only one date, Hailey. There's no harm in that."
I want to be on her side, I really do. But all I can think about is Millie's decisions with guys in the past, and how it has always ended, and I know that this won't be any different. I can already see the entire scene of heart break, playing out in front of me. I can already see me helping pick up the pieces. Sometimes, one date is all it takes.
She knows I'm not convinced- she knows I'm doubting the entire idea already, "Fine," she says with a sort of finality, "But at least meet the guy before you say anything."
Almost immediately, I know what she's hinting at. "You aren't going to make me go on a double-date, are you?" I ask, but when she doesn't respond, I know that's exactly what she wants.
I'm about to object, but before I can she starts to plead, "Oh come on Hailey, please? It could be so much fun. Plus, we're already going shopping- we could get really nice dresses and-"
"Millie," I stop her, not wanting to get her hopes up, "It's not the worst idea in the world, but I don't have money to go shopping anyway. I thought I was just coming along. Everything I have is back at my house, and I haven't been back there since you-know-when."
She's quick to come up with a solution, "I'll pay for you, no problem."
"No way," I tell her, shaking my head. "I'm not going to let you spend money on me. Not when I have no idea when I'll be able to pay you back."
"Hailey."
I refuse to budge.
"Well then," she says, "I guess we're just going to have to stop by your house."
After the sentence escape her lips, falling into the atmosphere, I'm frozen, feeling my veins fill with ice and my head start to spin. "What?" I shiver, not believing her words.
"It's not like your mom is ever there anyway, right?" She asks, but I can hardly move. "We can stop by, grab some stuff, and leave. Like we were never there in the first place. It's easy."
The idea is nerve-wracking, but also appealing. "Are you sure?" I say, and she nods.
And then, I make the decision, unsure of the outcome, unsure of myself, unsure of everything- "Okay, alright, let's go."
Because it's not like she'll be there anyway, right?
Right?
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Okay everyone! End of chapter 33. I hoped you all liked it! Make sure to comment, vote, comment, comment, vote, or leave any questions or thoughts you may have down below!
The question for this chapter is:
Do you think Hailey will see her mom at the house? Yes or no?
Anyway, thanks for reading, and make sure to come back for the next chapter of MRSR!
p.s. Make sure to click on the external link to see the contest winning drawing!