77th street sycamore

" Jazz, jazzy up up"

"Jazz" my name dances around his lips" you are so mysterious how do you know my name " I giggle rapidly twirling my hair into circles, dozing into his hazel eye-

"Jazzy, jazz" the voice starts to soften as if a woman is talking, " jazz wake up". " Jason" I mumble regretting what I just said, " It's mom".

"Mom?"

What's up with her waking me up all cuddly in the morning, probably had a good time with 'Jake' dad 22.

I have new  dad's every week, I think...

I frown my eyebrows knowing that what next that comes out of that women's mouth is probably going to be something bad for me and good for her , or complete nonsense.

" what is it mum " I watch as her eyes lighten wanting to talk but just couldn't bring her self to it, "Mum I'm not up for your shit honestly " I tell her pointlessly so she'd can get to the point as well as getting out of my room.

" Me and Jake are getting married, I'm tellin' you he's the one "she smiles, I really wish I could believe that, but that shit is all fake I just really don't know why she tells me this time. It's not like I would cry or anything , pathetic.

She is pathetic, the fact that she has to have a hook up every night to feel good about her self it's just utterly sickening.

" Good for you mom " I fake smile for a second then went back to my bland face expression. I would kill to run away free of this tight grip 'my mom'.

It's so hard to let go sometimes |I just can't let her go as much I would like to I just can't leave her by herself|. She's a young women that can take care of herself don't get me wrong, but she wouldn't be able to do it I , just know it.

" Why don't you be a lil' happy for your mama " she cheers pulling herself up from my bed as the damp when she sat down on my bed goes up to it's normal position." I'm happy see" I fake a smile to satisfy her enough.

"Stop being dramatic mom..it's just another wedding of yours nothing special , you know" I assure her . " Jazzy..this is the real deal the ending point,my person " she mumbles closing the door behind her, I didn't get to see her expressions but I could easily figure out that she was a bit serious.

I feel bad. She was just really excited for a non-realistic thing, I could never think she would be this upset over something so so pathetic. Getting married is just two people losing their love for each other over a paper that is 'supposed' to keep them together forever.

Which is only legally.

I sigh, as the thought of me getting up for breakfast gets to me. Oh how i hate life.

My nanny Odell knocks on my door with ease, knowing that I am grumpy in the morning—a guilty pleasure of mine as well. "Jazzy, it's Odell," she says. "Come in, oddie," I sighed, anticipating her response. In a gentle British accent, she says, "It's almost time for breakfast and mommy is not going to be very happy when she doesn't see you." I yawn, "Don't worry, I'll be there in a second," and she giggles as she enters my room."You better" she giggles existing my room. I really hate meeting new people. You might be thinking, "How isn't she used to this yet ,her mom moves from man to man?" Well, I never got the chance to spend quality time with any of them except for this Jeremiah dude. Jeremiah truly understood how I felt because his mom had treated him similarly when he was in my age range. Despite how horrible I made him sound, he isn't all that bad, and I didn't mind at all. This led to a small but relatable relationship between us.

"I mean it this time, jazzy," Ody warns me again. I eventually got up after her second warning because, when she gives her third, she tells Mom, which is really annoying. However, I can understand that if I were in her position, I would have done the same to myself. Now that Oddie had given me her second warning, I hurriedly got out of bed to start the day, knowing it would be filled with surprises because my mother had somehow "married" Jake.

I was mentally prepared to kick someone in the ass if necessary, but I was also physically prepared, once I put on my denim overalls, white tee, and red Converse. Funny thing is, my mom had never been this excited about getting married, as sad as it probably is. It's not funny at all, now that I've said that. Even though it's unsettling to spend 20 years dating different men and never finding that sense of fulfillment in your heart, who am I to judge? I've never had that kind of person or even gotten within six inches of a boy outside of the context of schooling.

"Hey jazzy," a manly voice calls out to me. I looked up to see that Jake was at the head of the table, where my mother usually sits, and assumed it was him. I correct him by saying, "Oh hey Jake and it's Jaz to you," but my mom's dismissal of my "uninclusive behaviour" slows down when she drops—more accurately, bangs—her fork on the table.

"Jake, why don't you tell Jazzy how good of a fisherman you are?" she asks, grinning as she takes a sip of water and looks directly at me.She gives me a phony, warm smile and says, "Oh, I don't thin-," "oh sure you can Jakey, it's quiet interesting, in fact Jazzy loves fishing, don't you jazz." "Oh mom how funny you are, you know I hate fishing and you also know that I hate lakes." I was sorry to turn down her suggestion that Jake and I share the same interests. Simply put, I'm not ready. How can I trust this relationship when I know it will all end badly for us both?

"Well, that makes sense. Teenagers, you know, are constantly trying something new and changing their minds about everything. They like purple one day and pink the next," she says, giving me a tense look as she and Jake both burst out laughing. I yell, "Listen here, Jake. Both of us know nothing about each other." As I walk out of the room, I picture my mother looking disappointed.