Isolation (Book #1 of the Taylor Series)

Twenty-Two

"Good, you're here." Mom utters when I close the front door. 

All of my siblings except Julie and Lauren are sitting in the living room where both of my parents are also waiting. Amelia, Adam, and Violet are sitting on the couch, while Mom is sitting in Dad's lap in the ugly chair, with Gavin in her lap. Elijah and Nathan are on the floor with  crossed legs as there isn't enough room on the furniture for them. Just one of the many negatives of having fifty-seven kids.

"Yep, that I am." I try to smile off her tone, but she narrows her eyes at me and elbows Dad in the stomach.

"Give us your phone." He demands with his usual tone of authority. 

A voice that he thinks fools us into believing that he's the boss around here. We all know the truth though. Ellie Nicholson is the boss, not her working husband, Keith. I nod, digging it out of my pocket and putting it in Mom's hand. I'm not too shocked about this. I'd already known that they were going to do this whenever I got home.

"Now sit, we need to talk." Mom smiles, but it isn't a real smile. It never is with her.

I nod and sit beside Elijah while Nathan takes it as an invitation for him to sit in my lap. I let him though he accidentally hits me in the cheek bone with his bowling ball of a skull. Ignoring it, I maintain eye contact with Ellie as if urging her to continue. If there's one thing I want right now, it's to get this stupid argument over with.

"Who were you with?" She fires, and I feel as though I'm in the hot seat. I kind of am if you think about it.

"A friend." I say simply, and she shakes her head, not accepting my answer.

"Who were you with?" She tries again. There's no beating around the bush with this one.

"Blake." I murmur.

"Blake? As in the Blake from the bookstore?" She narrows her eyes at me. 

Elijah adjusts himself uncomfortably beside me, and I can't help but think that he's intimidated by her glare just as much as the rest of them are. Oddly enough, the only two people unintimidated are Nathan and me.

"Yes, Blake from the bookstore."

"What? So now that you're hanging out with this Blake, you feel as though you have the right to break the rules?" The snap in her tone takes me by surprise. The dryness in my throat and mouth makes it near impossible to speak.

"No, I--"

"Yes, that's why you broke the rules. I googled this Blake Davidson, you know. He comes from a huge line of money, were you aware of this? His father isn't just any old businessman, Eve, he's one of the richest men in America. Did you know this?"

"Yea--"

"Good, so you know something. However, I've told you on many occasions that money is the root of all evil, not to mention that you've probably been having inappropriate thoughts about this boy, and I'm sure the same for him." She doesn't hesitate, and I roll my eyes subtly behind Nathan's head.

"Well, not exact--"

"Yes, exactly, Eve. First Julie, and now you. I'd be surprised if you hadn't already engaged in sexual acts with this boy--" Well, a kiss on the cheek isn't exactly a sexual act, but the emotions that came with it sure felt like it, "--I don't like this situation, Eve Alexandra Nicholson. I don't like it one bit."

What a surprise.

"Mom, it's not exactly up to you to decide who I can and can't see." I say nonchalantly, hoping to persuade her by the tone of my voice that the relationship between Blake and me is no big deal. It's not like I'm going to be pregnant by the end of the year or anything.

"Excuse me?" Uh oh. Clearly a bad choice of words.

"You can't forbid me to see him, " I carefully push Nathan out of my lap and stand up, "Besides, Blake isn't like that at all. You've completely misread our relationship." I smile, and the faces of my parents show me that perhaps I've crossed the line. 

That's not a surprise. I usually do cross the line when it comes to them, and they unsurprisingly never cross the line. None of their words, none of their insults, none of their punishments ever cross the line.

"I'm your Mother, I can and will forbid you to see him. You don't think he's like that, but I can vouch for him being exactly like every other boy his age. That leads me to my other point actually," Oh great, there's more, "He's entirely too old for you."

I giggle sarcastically, "He's eighteen. I'm seventeen and I'll be eighteen in February. How is that too old?" I ask, but I don't mention how ironic it is that it's coming from her. Especially since Dad is nearly twice her age.

"He'll be nineteen in June, and he's legally an adult. Eve. You're not. You're still a child." She explains, and this time I don't hide me rolling my eyes.

"That's the dumbest argument I've ever heard, Mom. We aren't interested in having sex with each other, and we won't be for a very long time, I mean, we haven't even kissed each other yet. Besides, our age difference is nothing compared to yours and dad's." The tone in my voice instantly sets us up for a fight, and I forthwith regret it.

"It's not about wanting it now, it's about you falling in love with him over a short period of time, and when he does ask you to do something you wouldn't normally be comfortable with, you'll happily give in. Don't think of it as forbidding you to see someone, think of it as protecting you." She smiles sadly, and I groan, stomping my foot against the carpet.

"You don't need to protect me. I can handle myself." 

She shrugs me off, sinking back into Dad's lap, "Listen, Eve, what's done is done. You're not to see this boy anymore, and if I have to go to work with you every single day to make sure that that rule is enforced, then so be it." I glare at her for a moment, before deciding that I've had enough. I turn to towards the direction of the stairs and make my way up them quickly.

She's always trying to ruin my life. Always. She thinks that I'm going to end up exactly like her, but what she fails to realize is that I'm way smarter than her. At age fourteen, she had no idea what she was getting herself into having sex with a guy Dad's age. I'm not fourteen, nor am I having sex. I won't be having sex until I'm thirty probably, at least until college. When will Ellie Nicholson realize that I'm not her, and my mistakes aren't hers to decide.

I huff as I close my bedroom door and strip down to my underwear and slip on some sweatpants. It's freezing in here, and there's a ferocious winter ahead. Falling down on my bed, I stare at the desk that is now missing the computer that I paid for with my own money. 

I immediately sit up and look at my messy bookshelves. The large stack of encyclopedias is missing. I lay back down on my bed with a sigh, covering myself up with my quilt. The cold gray of the sky outside overpowers the greenery outside my window. The greenery that will be dead soon, cold and dead, just like everything inside this stupid hellhole. This stupid family and this stupid town both need an adjustment.

The hatred I have for everything here is unreal. I'm slowly turning into Graham, and I don't even mind. The people here all have this overwhelming sense of privilege, as if they've got the right to tell people how to live their lives. They all feel like they've got the right to judge people before they even meet them, before they really know them.

Money's the root of all evil. Yeah, well, it's not like Blake is the one with the money. His parents, more specifically his dad, are the ones with the money. The parents that he's not even on a talking basis with at the moment. 

Besides, he's not a bad person, and having money doesn't make you a bad person. Blake isn't anyway. Blake Davidson is a good person. Then again, my judgment could be a little bit biased because he's nothing like the people here. I don't care though. I don't have to think logically right now. 

They've judged Blake before they even met him, and that's all that matters. They don't know the amazing boy beneath the social ladder, beneath the rich family, beneath what the media knows about his parents, and that is what pisses me off.