Thank you to all who left feedback last chapter. I just want to thank wheresyourmoustache for making my new and improved covers. Well, I hope you like this chapter. Do not forget to vote, leave feedback, and enjoy. Also, check out my other stories, like "The Boys, The Girls, Facebook, and Men in Tights," and "Cops, Chicks, and Streaking Naked."
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Motionless, I just stare at him. I don't know how long I stood in the doorway, staring at Logan. It could be seconds. It could be minutes. It could also be hours. Gasp.
Forgive me. I tend to exaggerate anything that needs exaggeration.
Suddenly, without warning, I'm scooped up in a bear hug by a girl. I think it's one of his sisters. I'm guessing the older one, because the little one was about Cassie's age when they left and I don't really think she remembers me.
I try and think of their names and then I hear a voice coming from behind the girl who is giving me a huge hug, which I find comforting, by the way.
"Hally, dear, you might wanna let go of her so we can hug her too," says Mrs. Richards, I think.
Hally lets go of me and squeezes my arm affectionately. Oh, how I loved playing with this girl when she was here. She was older than me. She's about seven years older than me. She taught me a lot of the things I know now. She also protected me from Logan, which I greatly appreciated.
Mrs. Richards steps forward and wraps me in a motherly hug. When she unwraps her arms from me, she says, "Bonnie, you're all grown up! I remember when you were so little. You were the cutest thing!"
I smile at her. Mrs. Richards was so nice to me. His whole family was so nice to me when I was little. I don't know what happened to Logan. It's like he's the defective child or something. Something was wrong with him.
Realizing that they were still outside in the cold, I make way for them to enter the house. "Oh, sorry about that. Come in."
I motion for them to enter the house just as my Mom and my sister walk down the stairs.
My Mom is beaming with happiness as she looks at Mrs. Richards. "Marissa! Oh my goodness! I've missed you so much."
They wrap their arms around each other in a very tight hug. It's so nice to see my Mom so happy. I'm guessing Mrs. Richards was one of her best friends. It'd be really saddening if one of your best friends just moves far away. I don't know what I'd do if I lost Sky or Alex.
After letting go, Mom moves over to Mr. Richards, who was silent the whole time. She gives him a friendly hug. Not a tight hug, but a friendly hug, nonetheless. "Alec, still as handsome as ever, I see."
Mr. Richards just smiles at her and looks at Cassie and me. "Jemma, I see that you're daughters have grown up to look as beautiful as you are."
Slapping his shoulder, my mom laughs. "Oh, shush it."
As she leads the adults toward the dinner table, I hear her say that dinner is almost ready and that we would have to wait for a few minutes.
As I go into the living room, I am, yet again, engulfed in a tight yet very warm hug from behind.
I turned around and beamed at the my older sister-like friend and hugged her back. "Hally! I missed you so much."
She's changed, look's wise, at least. She was really skinny back then. I think she went through a rebellious phase. No matter how clichéd this sounds, she had a nose ring and highlights. I guess she was just being a teenager.
She's tall, like, really tall. Almost as tall as Logan. She used to be skinny but now she has curves, which looks so much better, by the way. Without the highlights, her brown hair looks so healthy and shiny. Of course, there's those trademark Richards' blue eyes.
Hally just laughs at me and pinches my cheeks. She used to do that a lot when I was little. She said that I had such "chubby cheeks" and that she "couldn't help it."
After painfully pinching my cheeks, she says, "Me too! I missed my little Bon-bon. And, my, have you grown to be a teenager."
I laugh at her comment and say, "Eight years does that to you, darling. I wasn't going to stay small forever."
She looks me up and down. I'd feel self-conscious about that if it were someone else who did that, but it was Hally, the chick who basically dressed me up for fun.
She starts gaping at my breasts and that made me self-conscious. "You have boobs! You finally have boobs!"
Blushing a little at her comment, I say, "I wasn't exactly old enough to have boobs when you left, Hal."
She just chuckles. "What size are you, exactly? I mean, I'm a C but you look borderline C too."
The forwardness of this chick is just so amazing and admirable sometimes.
We hear someone clear their throat, and I turn to look at Logan. He's just staring at me with eyes so intense. Wow. That sounded really clichéd. What the hell?
I forgot about Kiley for a moment there. She kind of looks like Hally, except shorter. She got her mother's blond hair instead of her father's dark hair. She looks really pretty. She'll probably grow into a lady with a thousand suitors one day.
I walk up to Kiley and I open my arms out for a hug. I mean, she may not remember me much but I clearly do. I used to play with her a lot because, sometimes, Hally would have to babysit me, Logan, Cassie, and Kiley all at the same time. I guess that's what you get when your parent's are really close. Not to mention, we live a few houses down.
She smiles at me then hugs me.
After I hug her, I say, "I'm sure you don't remember me but you used to play with me and my sister a lot."
She lightly laughs and says, "I don't remember much, but I do remember playing with someone who was around us a lot. I'm guessing it was you."
We just carried a light conversation until Mom called all of us because the food was ready. It didn't take that long, which was a relief. My stomach is making pretty funky noises.
Since we were all pretty much not going to fit on a six person dining table, the kids - teenagers, except for adult Hally - had to sit on a small portable table that my Mom recently bought.
Hally forced me to sit beside her, while Kiley and Cassie sat side-by-side. I'm guessing those two will rekindle their short-lived friendship. Logan, the only boy at the table, sat at the head. Poor, poor boy. If only my brother was here to chat him up about boy things.
My half-brother, Blake, is in his third year of college right now. You're wondering why he's my half-brother, right? Well, Dad, our Dad, had a wife before Mom. That wife is Blake's Mom. He's three years older than me. His Mom passed away the year he was born. Dad was at a loss until he met Mom. They married one year after they met. Nine months later, I was born. Yes, I am a honeymoon child. Four years later, that abominable brat - just kidding - was born.
When Blake turned sixteen, he asked Dad if he could change his last name from Clyde to Daniels - his Mom's maiden name - as a memento of the mother he barely spent time with. Dad was hesitant at first but he agreed to let him do it.
He may not be my full brother but he is the best brother ever. I couldn't ask for more.
Just as we were about to grab our food, the door opens and comes in my father. I'm guessing he couldn't get off work that easily.
"I'm sorry I'm late. I couldn't get off that easily."
See. I'm right.
Dad goes over to Cassie and me and gives us a kiss on our heads. Then he walks over to the "adult" table. He gives Mom a peck on the lips and takes a seat beside her.
None of the adults want to sit at the head of the table. That's funny. For me, at least. I'm a weirdo.
I don't look like my Dad, in all honesty. I got my looks from Mom. The brown hair, the brown eyes, and the lean body. All from Mommy.
Cassie, on the other hand, got Mom's hair but Dad's blue-green eyes. She also got his nose. It's not the best nose in the world. Mom's nose is perfect though. I got her nose. Lucky me, right?
My nose is nice while Cassie's eyes are nice. It's a win-win. No fighting over here.
All the adults are already eating. The kids - teenagers, except adult Hally - on the other hand, are just looking at the food.
How awkward can this get?
Guessing how frustrated she is about our discomfort with each other, Hally says, "For Christ sake! Do I have to spoon feed all of you again?"
We all mutter a "no." Everyone else reaches in to get their food while I say a silent prayer.
I'm a Catholic. My whole family is, actually. We got to Mass on Sunday's. Not every Sunday, but on Sunday, nonetheless.
Just as I was about to reach for the corn, I feel someone kick my foot. Hard. "Ow!"
I look at Logan - first instinct - and scowl at him.
He looks at me like he's innocent and says, "What? I did not kick your foot. I swear."
Disbelievingly, I say, "Oh, really now? I don't believe you."
Smirking, he says, "Again? You won't believe me again?"
"I won't ever."
"That's your fault."
"You fucking kicked my foot."
"Watch your language. There are kids around."
Cassie just shrugs her shoulders while Kiley eats her food.
"Shut up, you two!" Hally exclaims as she bangs her hands on the table.
The adults looks at us for a moment and wonder what the hell we're doing. After what seemed like five seconds, they go back to eating, chatting, and laughing. Oh, how I wish I was at that table right now.
Hally looks at me apologetically and says, "I'm sorry. I was the one who accidentally kicked your foot."
She shoots a glare at Logan then continues, "It was supposed to be aimed at him. He's being a dick by not talking."
Logan scoffs. "Why am I being a dick?"
"Because," Hally just flips her hair over her shoulder, "you're being quite unresponsive. It's very rude."
Logan, who looks pissed, just says, "The whole fucking table is unresponsive."
The two fourteen year olds just continue eating like they don't care. I, on the other hand, am just listening to the sibling banter between these two people.
They continue to banter for around two minutes.
Guessing that she needed to interfere since her children were getting very loud, Mrs. Richards shouts from the table, "So, Bonnie, how is school?"
Turning away from the table and looking at her, I answer, "It's, uhm, pretty okay. The classes are fine, I guess. Some teachers are horrible though."
"Oh," she says, "you will be helping out my son, right?"
I so badly want to scream out a big fat "no."
Instead of me voicing out my answer, Logan does. "She needs to. The principal assigned her to 'show me around' and 'introduce me to her friends,' because we look 'so close to each other.'"
Mrs. Richards looks so ecstatic at the thought. "That's wonderful. I should thank Bertha for her kind suggestion."
Kind, my ass.
And Bertha? Mrs. Willaims's name is Bertha?
I am silently laughing in my head, if you haven't noticed.
Mom, knowing that I absolutely hate Logan, looks at me with a glint in her eye and says, "Bonnie, dear. Why don't you drive Logan to school every morning? I mean, we live so close to each other," then she turns to Mrs. Richards, "don't you think it's a good idea, Rissa?"
Mrs. Richards, the ever ecstatic, nods her head. "Of course! Bonding time. You should drive each other to school. Everyday. Then drive each other home. Everyday."
I can't believe she's emphasizing "everyday." I don't even want to be in the same car as him for "one day."
Mom, who looks at me with a look that says "You better say 'yes' or you're dead," just stares at me for my answer.
Always the one to look for a way out, I contradict, "I'm sure Logan would rather ride his motorcycle. It looks way cooler."
Wincing a bit, Mrs. Richards says, "Heavens no. I didn't want to buy that piece of crap in the first place. I'd rather he ride in a safe car than in his 'death on wheels.'"
Seeing as I can't contradict that, I will rely on Logan to get me out of it. "Would he even want to ride with me? Maybe he wouldn't."
I refrain from looking at my Mom because I know that she's on the verge of running over to me and pulling out all my hair.
Mrs. Richards and I turn to Logan to see his response.
He just smirks at me and says, "I don't mind, actually. It'll save me gas. I'm looking forward to it."
Mom, who knows that I can't get out of it, says, "Okay. That settles it then. Bonnie, you will pick Logan up and drop him home every single day, understood?"
Silently cursing in my head, I answer, "Yes, Mom."
Mrs. Richards and my Mom just smile at each other. I am shuddering right now. I can't believe they would torture their children like this.
Scratch that.
I can't believe my mother would do this. Whatever. I'll deal. It's not like I'll die.
It seems that the attention is still turned on us, teenagers - excluding Hally.
Mrs. Richards just looks at me then to my sister. "Cassie, dear. Do you have a boyfriend already?"
My dad, who was just at the classic moment, drinking water, chokes on it. Hmm, it feels like I'm in a cliché or something.
Cassie just shakes her head. "I kind of don't like anyone at the moment and, well, no boys have bothered to even try and ask me out."
My father lets out a sigh of relief and my mother just furrows her eyebrows together. I'm guessing that she doesn't like the thought of her daughter not having any boys liking her.
Then, Mrs. Richards turns her attention to me, looking more than eager. "So, Bonnie, what about you?"
Still a little lucid and inattentive, I mutter, "I don't really like boys."
I hear a gasp from my sister, a clang of utensils from the table of adults, and from Logan, who was having a coughing fit.
Just now realizing what I said, I hear my Mom say, "Excuse me. But, what did you say?"
"Uhm, I-I-I did not mean it like that. I, uh, meant to say that I, also, do not like anybody at the moment. I am straight all the way. There is no way I am lesbian or bisexual. No, no chance of that happening. Hehe." That laugh in the end was just an added effect to my complete inability to keep my cool.
Still looking at me with a look of complete disbelief, my Mom says, "No matter what you are, sweetie, we approve. Your father and I love you just the way you are."
Just as she said that, everyone went back to their business.
"But, I'm not... Ugh. Nevermind."
Yay. Now I am an assumed lesbian in school and at home.
Logan, Hally, Kiley, and Cassie just look at me.
What? Was I talking out loud or something?
"You," Cassie says, "were talking to yourself."
"Really?" Wow. I must terribly be out of it.
I hate Logan so much. It all started when he came back,
"There," Kiley says, "you did it again."
Logan just smirks at me. "Yeah. You talk to yourself out loud. Tell me why you hate me, exactly."
"I-I-I'm going to shut the fuck up now, thank you very much."
I end up completely silent throughout the whole dinner.
The Richards left about two hours later. Can you imagine how painful it is to sit at that table then in the living room with the Richards for two whole fucking hours after that mishap?
I swear, Mr. Richards was looking at me so weirdly. It's like he seriously thinks I'm a lesbian. Mrs. Richards, who's probably the only one who believes that I'm not a lesbian, is just looking at me like she wants something from me. Logan, as hot as ever, doesn't do anything. We'll accidentally glance at each other then he'll show me that infamous smirk. Kiley and Hally were probably the only normal people that night. Even my family was treating me weirdly.
After dinner, we basically did nothing. Well, I basically did nothing. The adults spoke to each other about what went on in their lives that they missed out on, Cassie and Kylie were talking like a pair of animated teenagers, and Hally and Logan were silently discussing something.
I was basically the odd one out. It feels so good, doesn't it?
When they left, I basically bolted up to my room. Since my sister and I share a bathroom - you know those kinds that are attached to two rooms - I had to use it as fast as possible. I did not want to interact with anybody at the moment. Questions will be asked, motives will be questioned, and babbling will start happening.
God, I feel like some chick in a clichéd story.
I changed into my pajamas - mind you, it's my only Spongebob jammies - and I hopped into bed. It's only eight o'clock but, after that dinner, I would need sleep. I'm just going to forget all the work that I probably need to do.
Screw that Algebra test tomorrow.
Screw that homework assignment that needs working on.
Screw the college applications that I swore to start on tonight.
Screw Logan.
I meant that figuratively, not literally.
I'm sure you guys are probably like, "Why are you being way too hostile toward him?"
Um, that dude ruined my life. I puked on a student in third grade when Logan put cockroaches on my table. The poor girl was standing in front of me when I saw all those cockroaches. As you can see, I absolutely abhor cockroaches. That is the reason I puked.
People still refer to me as "Gonna Blow Bonnie," except, this time, it's not exactly in a puke-ish sense, if you know what I mean.
I also remember one time when I got grounded for one month because Logan accidentally whacked my Dad's car with his baseball bat. How I got in trouble for that, I don't even know.
I wasn't even there when it happened. My Dad just flipped out and assumed I did it. Well, according to him, Logan had evidence that I did it. I, evidently, was playing with the boys - Logan's friends, who backed him up - and when I didn't hit the ball, I got pissed and slammed the bat into my Dad's car.
Yes, there are many reasons for my hostility.
Well, whatever. People say that the past is the past. People also say that the past stays with you forever and that it catches up to you. I agree with the latter.
Well, I have an early day tomorrow. A hectic one at that, too.
I drift off into fantasy land almost as soon as I lay my head on the pillow.
"Bonnie! Get your butt out of bed! You'll be late for school! You still need to pick up Alex and Logan."
Ugh. My alarm didn't go off and I'm guessing my Mom took the manual approach and decided to bang on my door nonstop and shout at me to "get my butt out of bed."
I get out of bed.
Shit.
I have a minor headache.
Having a minor headache this early in the morning is not good news. By the end of this day, I'll have a horrid headache that will make me want to bang my head against broken glass.
Sucking it up, I get ready - which takes about thirty minutes - and head down the stairs.
I tend to miss breakfast a lot. I don't really have an appetite in the morning. I usually just grab a slice of bread and bolt out the door.
This time, I'll make an exception. If I have to eat breakfast to stall having to pick up Logan, I will eat breakfast every single day.
I take a seat on the stool at the bar and wait for Mom to give me a plate of food.
She takes a look at me and says, "Oh, no, no, no, no. You're late. No breakfast for you. Grab a Poptart or something and go. You need to pick up Logan and Alex."
Ugh, are you serious?
"But-"
She shakes her head at me. "No 'buts.' Get your ass out that door and pick Logan and Alex up. We wouldn't want Logan to be late on his first day."
My parents are cool like that. They don't mind using curse words around us. It usually only goes as far as "ass" and "shit." No F-words.
Silently mumbling, "I want him to be late," I grab my banana and bolt out the door.
I have been waiting in the Richards's living room for almost ten minutes. No matter how fast I drive to school, we'll be late. Alex called me five minutes ago saying that he's "hitching a ride with Sky."
Sky doesn't have a car and she lives way too far for me to pick her up, so her Dad drives her to school since it's on the way to his work. I just usually drop her home.
Getting more and more impatient by the minute, I inform Mrs. Richards, who is cooking, that if Logan doesn't come down right now, we'll be late.
She just chuckles at my words and tells me to go up the stairs and bring him down myself.
Cursing at the thought of having to do this myself, I walk up the stairs. According to her, his room is the second door to the right.
Wanting to bang my fist against his door as hard as possible, I walk up to the door frame.
His door is partially open, I see.
I shout from outside, "Logan! We're already late! Can't you move any faster? Any minute later and, I swear, I'm leaving."
Since I hear no response at all, I push the door open. "Logan?"
Just as I was about to enter the room, I hear a shuffling sound.
Looking just a little bit to my left, near the closet, I see him.
I see him. All of him.
He looks up at me.
I just stare at him, wide-eyed.
I notice that he couldn't hear me because there are earphones on his ears.
Who the fuck uses earphones when they're getting ready? Doesn't he have an iPod dock or something?
I'm still caught in my place, as clichéd as that may sound.
I can't move.
He's just looking at me, staring at me.
He's not even making any move to cover himself up.
Then, in this situation, the clichéd and unexpected occurs.
He smirks.
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