Waiting For Us [COMPLETED]

chapter 13 - broken glass pt. 2

Talia:

"Whose clothes are these?"

It's Thursday night and my mother has invited herself into my room. At first it was just to ask me what I wanted to order for dinner, but now she has taken it upon herself to scan and search my room. Typical mom behavior.

"Well? I don't have all night, Lia," she states while holding up the clothes Grayson gave me after the incident on Monday. Her mouth hangs open and her eyebrows are raised, anticipating my answer to her question. She's irritated as always.

I put down my pencil on the inseam of my government textbook. "They're a friends."

"But why do you have them?" my mom demands in her lawyer voice, the one that I'm sick of.

I pick at the skin around my fingernails, suddenly feeling nervous; which is not entirely shocking, considering I'm being interrogated by my mother.

"They spilled their drink on me, so they offered their clothing as a peace offering," I lie.

"Who is "they."'

"Someone from school."

"Yes, but who?" she pushes, obviously wanting me to give a name. I avoided using the "he" pronoun until this point. She's going to flip when she realizes they're male clothes.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before opening them, steadying my nerves that my mom always needs to pick at. "Grayson."

"Last name?"

"Summers."

Phone number? Home address? Credit card score? What other information does she want?

She nods her head once and rubs her chin inquisitively. "He was in the newspaper the other day. He's on the basketball team, correct?"

So many questions tonight. For the first time in a while, I actually want to do my homework, just so I can avoid talking to her. Pathetic, I know; but sometimes I feel like one of her witnesses on a court stand.

"Yeah, he played for the school at the game Jess and I went to on Monday," I share, ripping apart a piece of paper. Talking about Grayson is reminding me not to tear my skin around my fingernails. You're going to hurt your fingers if you keep doing that, his voice soothly echos in my head.

"I'm surprised Jessica even dragged you to that," she says, scoffing at the idea of me skipping a night of school work. As if that's the most obscure idea ever. "You should stay away from guys like that in the future."