Falling Before We Started

💞 Chapter three 💞

Getting back from my outing with Tamara after mom's million phone calls I never picked, just because I kept my phone on silent.

I want to my room to freshen up. Then went over to the kitchen to give Mom a helping hand.

"What exactly took you guys so long to get back home?" Mrs Joel my Mom asked me the moment I stepped into the kitchen.

"Nothing mother...we only spent two hours out there" I said calming.

I had a long hard day OK,all I just want now is to relax.

But mom! she always quarry me whether I'm late or early back home from only where....and today I'm not ready for her.

"Really?...young lady. You have been out of this house for two hours —" she emphasized with her two middle fingers raising her voice. "-and you are coming back here all acting like it's not a big deal?" She asked furiously.

Well...it's definitely high time I watch my words because any spill of wrong words can cause me a high punishment.

Uh huh....it definitely will.

I walked over to the freezer and take a bottle of water. After a long gulp of the water, I let out a sigh preparing myself mentally.

"Its not your fault...it's mine. because if I didn't listen to your father, you wouldn't be here acting like someone who has out growled scrolling...in fact you wouldn't be telling me its just two hours".

she said looking pissed up. She picked up a towel and wipe her hand angrily.

"I'm done cooking, so...if you like? watch over the food, or rather sit here and spend two hours with the pot on fire" she said and with that she walked out of the kitchen leaving me all alone.

"Tropical African mother..."

I mimicked. whining to myself.

I dropped my bottle water on the slab and go check out what's cooking on the stove.

"Arrgghh!! Mom..."

I hissed out when the steam coming out of the pot burnt me. I closed the pot back immediately and went over to the sink. turn on the tap, and placed the burnt area under the tap.

I just don't know why cooking hates me. Even pots also share likeness in this hatred.

Why am I always been burnt and hurt any day I cook??... Really? Is that what other teenagers faces when ever they cook or is it that I suck in this??...

Well am going for " I suck in this" because that's the best excuse for my situation.

they are billions of teenagers out there who are badass in cooking. And I just don't fit in the kitchen.

Phoebe walked into the kitchen skipping.

" huh?..you are back" she said when she noticed me standing in the kitchen.

"Of course! am back. It's not like I went on a forever journey?"

I said being sassy. I turned around facing her as I examined the burnt area.

"What are you up to? dressed up like that?" I asked her raising up my brow with a little bit of disgust in my voice.

She's wearing a bicep short and a corp pink hoodie which reveals all her midsection 'her tummy'

"Nothing really..." She responds shaking it off with her hand as she picked the water I left on the slab.

Well...its not like I don't like what she's wearing or I feel disgusted by her clothing.