Fight Me

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rosalie

I was grateful Emma didn't ask too many questions. She seemed to understand that I wasn't really interested in talking about what happened at the party, and would much rather stay up and watch movies for the rest of the night. The next morning Emma left just minutes before my mom arrived home, and I couldn't be more thrilled to avoid an opportunity for my mother to question my friends. Or should I say singular, friend.

"How was the night shift today Carol?" My mom made a face at my use of her first name but welcomed my hug regardless. She had been hired as a nurse just at a hospital ten minutes from home, volunteering to take the night shift so she could see me during the day.

"Same old thing," she waved her hand like she always did, like she thought her night was less important than mine. "How was the party?" Her eyes were wide and excited, and frankly I felt bad I didn't have much to tell her. Or that I wanted to tell her.

"I was the most popular girl there Mom, I had at least six guys ask for my number." I replied, dripping with sarcasm. She rolled her eyes.

"That's my girl." Placing a quick kiss on my forehead she tossed her purse on the counter and grabbed a loaf of bread from the pantry.

My mom and I had been through a lot together. The rules of a military family, the unexpected moves, and most recently my father's passing. It was, for lack of a better word, strange that my father was gone. There was no longer a ticking clock above our heads reminding us we were only in this one place for so long. This time we weren't just picking a place to stay, we were picking a place to live.

A few weeks after his death Mom had chosen a small beach town on the East Coast. A cozy, quiet house with two bedrooms and a screened back porch. She had shown me the pictures a few days before we left. It was what we'd always dreamed of, though it didn't really feel like home. But I guess I hadn't ever felt that kind attachment toward any house or town. Mom was my sense of comfort, the thing I wanted to come back to at the end of the day.

She was also someone I didn't want to hurt, which is why I allowed her to persuade me into enrolling in the local community college. It was also why I wouldn't show her the bruises on my arms and back.

"I've got some homework I better get started on Mom, you get some rest ok?" I stood up from the counter and planted a kiss on her cheek, moving toward the living room stairs. As my bedroom came into view I realized I'd only gotten a few hours of sleep myself.

"Scratch that," I announced, "I believe a nap is in order," Mom chuckled and nodded before continuing to fix herself breakfast, humming to herself.

Carol Shaw was beautiful. I'd inherited her long dark brown locks and olive skin but always envied her expressive hazel eyes. She had striking high cheekbones and a full set of heart-shaped lips, not that she ever wore any type of makeup to accentuate them. But with her natural looks and personality the woman practically had her pick of suitors. I always did wonder exactly how she ended up with my father, who although attractive, didn't have a sense of humor or personality to speak of. At least not that I saw.

Every time I mentioned her physical assets she always teased that she was well past her prime. But I noticed men staring at her all the time. I looked in my bedroom mirror for a moment, combing through the wavy brown hair that fell to the top of my breasts. People have told me I shared many of her features but I never saw much beyond my hair and skin. I had my father's eyes. Pale blue.

**

Emma's pensive green gaze was furrowed in concentration as she mouthed the scribbled words written in the notebook she always carried with her. I smiled to myself and looked forward to the teacher. She droned on about something I didn't bother to take notes about. Instead, I surfed my computer for something else to occupy my mind.