Hey guys! This is the second chapter to We'll Be A Memory. Hope you guys enjoy, and please comment/vote/become a fan! If you like it, please recommend to your friends! You don't know how much it means to me!
Oh, and I have no idea why the dashes are running onto a second line... whateves.
Ciao! :)
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I walked in the door, stumbling over some rattles and a kids feather boa.
"Mooommmm, I'm home."
I ran up the steps to the second floor, my havaiana flip flops making slapping sounds against my tanned feet. I threw my messenger bag on my bread, covering some of the stripes on my zebra striped duvet. I settled down onto my bean bag, kicked off my shoes, and took out my phone to check my voice mails. One happened to be from my best friend, Phoebe.
"Salutations, earthling. I am pleased to inform you that your sista from anotha mista will be arriving at your place of residence around 8:30 pm on Friday, the 27th of May, of the year 2011. She will be bringing take out from the best Chinese food place known to man, Polly's Palace of Asian Delights. She requests that you have activities lined up for the night, including but not limited to blind make-overs and a marathon of sappy teenage romance movies."
I couldn't help but laugh. We've been best friends since seventh grade, which isn't saying much considering we've only just ended tenth grade. Although we haven't known each other as long as most "best friends" our age, we're closer than most. She's viewed as the quiet girl, yet when you get her going, her witty side tends to show. We've always been there for each other, and nothing's really ever going to change that.
I glanced at the clock, and saw it was 7:20. Perfect. This left me with a little over an hour to get ready and chill before Phoebe got here. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower water. I turned the nozzle to hot, and stared at my reflection in the mirror while the water heated up.
I started to work a brush through my unruly, long, dark brown hair. Even though my hair is thick, you would think it'd be easy to brush through since it's practically straight. WRONG. My hair just loves to take getting ready 10453 times longer by getting into rat nests at the nape of neck. My eyes flickered over my tan skin, and made me realize I couldn't be more thankful that I tanned easily. My fingers brushed over my full, round lips that just kissed Jonah only minutes ago. Just thinking about it made my cheeks flush a violent shade of pink. I swept my side bangs back from my eyes. I'm not the conceited type, I swear, but my favorite part about my face are my eyes. With the right amount of make up, my amber eyes can sparkle "like the ocean on a sunny day", according to Jonah. I've always taken pride in them. I quickly peeled off my tank top, shorts, and bikini and hopped into the shower.
I showered, savoring the feel of the body scrub on my salt-water-and-sand abused body. I hopped out, and put on my favorite set of pajamas, which happened to be a pair of Jonah's boxers and a rather unflattering oversized t-shirt.
I checked my clock. It was eight o'clock, which left me half an hour before Phoebe got here. I went down stairs to see three of my little sisters entertaining themselves. I walked over to Mollie, who's seven. She was sitting at the kitchen table coloring, with her light brown hair pushed back haphazardly into a pony tail. Her thin face made her glasses keep falling down, and she had to keep pushing them back on the bridge of her nose.
"Hey cutie, whatcha coloring?" I asked as I tousled her messy bangs.
"I'm coloring a picture for Bruce. Bruce said that if I tried my hardest, he would put it on his fridge!"
Oh yeah, Bruce is coming over. Bruce is this guy my mom works with at Eden's Things, this womens magazine that talks about health and all that crap. I've always wondered what a grown man like Bruce was doing working at a women's magazine. Shouldn't he be doing things more manly, like going to the gym or working for a men's magazine at least? It's not that I don't like Bruce, I just think he needs to grow a pair. He seems too easy to push around. He's known my mom for a while, and she's always made him happy and that's more than anyone else can say. For that reason alone, I've tolerated him for the year he's worked with Mom.
"Well it's looking great Molls, I'm sure he's gonna love it. Where's everyone else?"
"Mmm I think Mom put the twins in their swings, and Grace is giving Mom fashion advice."
I couldn't help but think this last statement was a little odd. If Mom was going out with Bruce, it wasn't really a big deal. She shouldn't need fashion advice, they're only friends. Then again, knowing my five year old sister Grace, it's not really surprising. Grace is a diva in the making; She thinks she owns the world, and every creature living on it. As much as she irritates the crap out of me sometimes, she really is adorable, and her large navy blue eyes tend to get her whatever she wants. She thinks the whole world wants to hear what she has to say.
I walked over to the one-year old twins, Jenna and Sophie, in their baby swings, and couldn't help but sigh at their cuteness. Even though they're just babies, their personalities are blooming. Sophie is our hyper little baby, who is not easily pleased. Jenna is laid back and sweet, the one people prefer to cuddle with. Either way, they're both adorable, and no one can really keep their hands off of them.
Just as I had bent down to pick up Sophie, the doorbell rang. Mom came running down the hallway, waving her arms in the air yelling "I'll get it! Don't touch the door!!!"
I now see why Grace wanted to give Mom beauty advice... Mom wasn't dressed to just 'go out with Bruce', she was dressed to "go out with Bruce'. If you need any help deciphering between the two, add a little eyebrow wiggle to the second one. You've got the picture.
She looked gorgeous. My mom isn't normally 'ugly', and she's still considerably young, at the age of 32. But tonight, her long blonde hair was pinned up, and a few tendrils framed her face in curls. She was wearing a black halter-top dress that went to her knees, with a plunging neckline. Her collarbone was decorated with a dainty necklace. It had a delicate chain, with a dainty white diamond on it, a gift from our Grandma before she had died. Her ears were decorated with diamond studs, another gift from our Grandma. These were the only two pieces of diamond jewelery that my mom owned, and she treasured them. She was wearing shoes that closely resembled Christian Louboutin pumps, but I knew they weren't the real thing considering they were way out of our price range. Her tanned skin seemed to shimmer, and her make-up made her blue eyes shine. I don't remember Mom looking this dressed up in a long time, and I knew this wasn't just a normal get together.
Mom was dissapointed to find that when she opened the door, it wasn't Bruce on the doorstep with a bunch flowers, but instead Phoebe with a bunch of food.
"Oh, it's you Phoebe. Come on in."
"Geez Ms. Shefford, nice to see you too! Hey Lex, where can I put this stuff?" She pointed to the eight-thousand pounds of Asian food she brought with her. I directed her to the counter. As we had started getting plates out, the door bell rang again. There was only one person left who hadn't arrived yet.... I raced to the door to open it before Mom, and opened it to find a nervous Bruce on the doorstep.
"Well hello Bruce. Please, come on in."
I examined Bruce as he walked in. He actually didn't clean up too bad. His dark brown hair seemed to be brushed. He was wearing dress pants with a tucked in shirt and tie. I gave him the nod of approval as he walked in.
"Okay Lex, all the girls have already eaten. Just get them up to bed, and everything should be fine. No going out, and don't answer the door. I'll have my phone on me in case of an emergency, but try not to have an emergency."
I rolled my eyes at this lame lecture. "Yeah yeah yeah. You behave, you crazy kids!" I yelled while ushering them out the door. As soon as they had reached the drive way, I knew the coast was clear.
"Alright Mollie and Grace, you two go to bed. I don't care if you two stay up talking, just go to your room and lay down." The two oldest ones ran down the hall, already chattering. "Phebe's, I'll take Jenna and you take Sophie. Just put them in my mom's room in their crib, they should be fine."
Once all the kids had been taken care of, we grabbed our food and went up to my room. I had only just settled onto my bean bag when Phoebe, with her curly red hair tied up on top of her head, and a mouthful of Orange Chicken, questioned me.
"Okay Lex, spill. How was the beach?", she asked with a hint of a smile on her lips.