I haven't slept at all. Every time I close my eyes, scenarios play in my head—mom finding out about us, mom hating me, mom finally, officially disowning me. They won't stop.
I look over at Orion sleeping peacefully on Peter's bed. He tried staying up with me, to try to get my mind off it, but he passed out around two hours ago. I'm glad he did though. He needs sleep, and I need to get through this by myself.
I've tried all my normal things—music, a movie, even a book—and nothing is working. My heart won't stop beating fast, and now my body feels all tingly and numb. I think I'm dying.
Soon enough, the sun slowly rises, and I climb out of bed. Orion only said that mom was coming—not what time—so I have to get the place ready for her.
Not wanting to be stuck in this tiny room anymore, I head down to the kitchen to find a pen and paper. I quickly jot down some of the rules that I made up over the years to not make her mad, so I can show the others. There's six on the list, but I can't think of any more. These will have to do. I fold the paper in half and put it in my pocket. I'll show it to the others later and make sure they follow every rule on this list. That way, mom will like them.
I feel like crying now. I can't stop thinking of what might happen. What if mom starts yelling at someone? What if she makes some remark that makes them cry? What if she yells at me for something I did?
I don't think I can take this anymore.
"Blythe?"
I whirl around and place my hands on the kitchen counter behind me.
Jax stands there, running his hand through his hair, and for one split second, the only thing on my mind is how hot he looks with his hand in his hair, his shirt riding up a bit, and the morning sun shining on him.
But then I blink, and the blissful moment is ruined.
"What are you doing up? You're never up this early."
I shrug. "You know, um... making breakfast." I book it to the fridge and open it. What would mom like for breakfast? I see the eggs and grab them, but then Jax takes them from my hand.
"You can't cook, Blythe. I am not trusting you with making breakfast after last time."
I turn around. "But—"
Jax leans down and kisses me, but before anything actually happens, he pulls away and places his forehead on mine. A simple peck meant to shut me up. "No buts. Go lay down. You look exhausted."
I roll my eyes but gently push him away and walk into the den to lay down. I hear him moving about behind me, but I pull a blanket over my head and close my eyes.
I jerk awake when I hear someone calling my name but after a while of silence, I lay back down. My heart is pounding too much to go back to sleep, but I'm so tired. My eyes are burning and foggy, and my body won't move except to match the thrumming of my heart. My brain screams at me that mom's going to be mad if I go back to sleep and ignore her.
Mom.
I sit up and look around, seeing Jax and Sam playing cards and Lincoln reading a book. "What time is it?" I ask, and Jax and Sam look at me.
"Nice to see you awake," Jax says and stands up. "I have some breakfast for you. You were still sleeping, and we didn't want to wake you." He grabs a plate from the fridge and puts it in the microwave.
I slowly get up, suddenly very dizzy, and walk over to the table. "What time is it?" I ask again.
"Around eleven thirty," Sam says after looking at his phone.
My heart rate skyrockets. "Is my mom here yet?"
Sam looks at me with a frown. "Not yet..."
The relief that floods through me makes me lay my head on the table.
"Blythe, are you okay? You don't look so well."
"Just peachy," I mumble as Jax sits down and slides my plate of food towards me.
I lift my head and slide the plate closer to me. Eggs, grits, and toast. One of my favourites. "You know, I don't think I can eat this," I say, looking at the food.
"Why not? Don't worry, Jax cooked it. It is edible."
"Yeah, it's not that. I just feel like throwing up." I slide the plate away from me and get up. "I'm going to go get changed." Without looking at them, I go up to my room and get a change of clothes on—one appropriate for mom.
Peter comes into the room, carrying something, but as soon as I see his black shirt, I say, "Peter, can you change your shirt?" Mom hates the colour black. She automatically assumes you're emo, depressed, and suicidal, hell bent on making her life miserable, if you wear even a black bracelet. I don't want mom to think bad of Peter based on the clothes he wears, but there's nothing I can do about her opinion. What I can change is what Peter wears.
He stops and looks at me. "What?"
"Please?"
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Shirt?"
"Okay, okay." He puts down his box and finds a new shirt to put on, but this one is also black.
"Can you wear a shirt that isn't black please?"
"Why? What's the problem with the colour black?"
"Fine! Wear your shirt— Owe!"
"Blythe, are you okay?"
I look down at my hand and see blood running down my finger. I was picking at the skin without even realizing. Without answering him, I go into the bathroom and wash the blood off. I put a Band-Aid on simply because I know that if I don't, I'll pick at it some more and make it worse. I go back into my room—Peter isn't here anymore—and go to the window. I can see the driveway, and I don't see mom's car, so that's good.
Now all I have to do is wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait...
I can't do this. I walk out of my room and downstairs again. I don't stop at the kitchen. I keep walking through to the dining room, the foyer, and the den until I'm just walking in circles now. All the while, I'm biting at my lip, fidgeting with my fingers, and thinking about mom. Why does she want to see me now? She hasn't contacted me all summer. Given, she took my phone and laptop away, so she had no way to directly contact me, but still, why now? What if she finds out about us? She's never outright said it, but I know she doesn't like anyone who isn't "normal." When she would bad mouth someone behind their backs before, I didn't say anything about it, even when I wanted to, because I had to keep my head down, stay out of the way of the charging beast. That was easy though. I didn't know those people. It still hurt my heart, but I could live with it. But now? What would happen if she starts to attack the others? I don't think I could handle that. But what should I do? Which side would I choose?
Tears prick my eyes, and I rub the heel of my palm into the spot right above my right eye. It feels like someone is stabbing that area with a very sharp knife over and over again.
I run into a wall. A very soft wall though. I look up at Orion's concerned face.
"I've been calling your name for a while. Lunch is ready."
I nod and follow him back into the kitchen. Everyone is already seated, and when we get there, they all start eating. I stare at the food on my plate though. The nauseous feeling from this morning still hasn't left, but I do drink some water. This headache is not getting any better.
What if someone mentions Colton?
The list.
I get it out of my pocket. "Everyone." I place the list on the table. "This is a list of rules I made for when my mom comes. Please follow all of them."
"Rules?" Dev takes the list and looks over it.
"Yeah. Just a couple things not to do, so you don't make her mad."
Dev passes the list on.
"This is a couple?" Sam says.
"The ones off the top of my head, yes."
"So what's with this whole 'don't wear black thing'?" Peter asks.
"It's a long story. Short version is mom hates the colour black. Please don't wear it."
Peter looks at me but doesn't say anything else—just passes the list on. It goes around the table before I get it back and put it in my pocket.
"You know this isn't... normal. Right, Blythe?" Sam says.
I shrug. "Maybe. But this is how I survived all these years, and I just want to protect you guys. I don't know what I would do if she starts attacking you guys. I just... I don't want that to happen." I rub at my face and then scratch at my hand.
"It'll be fine, Blythe," Lincoln says from beside me. "My promise for your brother? It also applies here." If you ever need me to stay with you, just let me know, and I will.
I nod with a smile. I can tell that they're all trying to help me, and on the surface, I feel better. But underneath, I'm a swarm, and I feel like I could burst at any second. I scratch at my hand again.
.~:*:~.
I pace around the living room, fidgeting with whatever I can get my hands on.
"Gees, Blythe. What's got you so panicky?"
I look up at Jax. "My mom's coming," I say, and my heart beats faster just hearing those words. It's late afternoon now, and we've heard no word from her.
He laughs. "So why are you so worried?"
"My mother is coming," I tell him, and I can feel the panic setting in.
Jax must see it too because his face calms, and he comes over and hugs me. "Hey, it's okay. Your mother can't be that bad."
I nod at his shoulder, and that calms me down a bit, but he doesn't know what she's like. None of them do. "You guys remember everything I told you right?"
They're all in the den with me, my anxiety keeping them close. They nod, and I sit and stare at the door. Lincoln grabs one of my hands in his, and I realize that my finger is bleeding because I was picking at it again. I bounce my leg instead.
The others force me to watch a movie to try to distract me. Normally that would work—let me forget everything—but my anxiety below the surface continues to buzz in me. I can't forget it this time, and it's making me go crazy.
So now I've decided to clean the entire house instead. I start with my room—just in case mom wants to see it—and I make sure to hide everything that I need to. Then I venture downstairs. I wipe off all of the counters, load the dishes, wipe the cabinets down, clean the floors, and even clean the stove.
After watching me do all of that, the others think it's a good idea to help me. Maybe they think that that would get all the work done faster, and then I wouldn't have anything else to do. They think wrong.
"No! You have to wipe it in a circular motion, so there aren't any streaks." I take the rag from Sam's hand and wash the window myself. I have Jax and Lincoln doing the laundry. Sam's on windows. Dev has dusting. Peter and Orion have mirrors and glass. I give Sam back the rag when I see Dev wiping all the dust onto the floor. "Dev! You have to get a damp rag and wipe all the dust into the rag. That way it won't go onto the floors that I just cleaned."
He wets his rag and comes back, but now it's soaking wet, and it'll ruin the wood.
"No, Dev. Damp. Not soaking wet. It'll ruin the wood that way."
"I don't see the difference. It gets the dust off."
"But it'll ruin the wood. Go get a damp rag."
Dev runs off again, and I go down to the laundry room in the basement to check on Jax and Lincoln. I don't know why all this anger is running through me right now. It just feels like nothing is going right. Everything just has to be perfect. Everything has to be how she wants it. She'll get angry if one little thing is dirty.
"Get off of each other!" I shout as I go into the laundry room and see Lincoln pushed up against the wall by Jax.
Jax glares over his shoulder at me, but I just glare back.
"You haven't even started any loads yet."
"We'll get it done, Blythe," Lincoln says but doesn't move from his position.
I throw my hands up in the air and yell. Then I turn around and stomp back upstairs. Mom could be here at any second, and no one is—
"Blythe, you have got to calm the fuck down."
I turn and see Jax and Lincoln following me up the stairs and to the kitchen. I can feel the others watching us as well.
"No, I don't. No, I fucking don't. Mom is going to be here at any second, and I have to make sure everything is to her—"
Jax slams his lips down on mine and presses me against the counter.
I feel his hands on my hips and his lips on my mouth, and my body buzzes again. But this time it's a good type of buzz.
Our lips move in sync as Jax presses against me. My weak hands grasp onto his shirt as a moan slips out. He bites down on my lip, and a louder moan slips out. He does it again, and my knees are weak. He finally lets me go, and I lean against the counter, panting and eyes barely open. Even now, my face heats up a bit.
"Are you better?"
I nod.
"Holy shit that was hot."
Jax grins over his shoulder. "I told you it would work. Now." He reaches down and picks me up bridal style.
I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my head in his shoulder. He sits down on the couch again and turns something on. The others sit around as well. I stay curled up with Jax, frankly very embarrassed. I can't believe I acted like I did. And to them. "Sorry," I mumble, not knowing if they even heard me. I feel terrible. I grip onto Jax's shirt, and he starts rubbing my back.
For the first time all day, I feel relaxed.
Then I hear a knock on the door, and everything rushes back.
I jump practically out of Jax's lap before anyone else realizes what's happening. He groans, and I trip and fall on my face, but I'm up and running to the door. I steady my breathing and then open the door.
Mom stands there. She opens her arms and rushes to hug me. "Blythe! I've missed you so much!"
I don't know how wattpad does this, but if you got a notification that I updated chapter 37, I did, but it's not major enough to go back and read. I just made sure to tie up a sub plot point.