Brooklyn Davis always had a problem with the things people say and with her attitude, she is always getting in fights which are earning her a reputation of being expelled from school. And it's been getting worse since her dad passed. Brooklyn finds...
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———————————————————— "Mom, I'm home, can you come grab the groceries? I need to put clothing in the washer," I say walking in the garage door with the grocery bag and my gym bag on my shoulder. I hear her walk into the mud room and take the bag off the floor as I put my clothes from the gym and dirty ones in the washer. "Thanks- you are most definitely not my mom," I say, turning around to find Eric with the bag in his hand. "No I'm not," he says, watching me.
"What are you doing here? Where's my mom?" I ask, trying to push past him but he holds me back. "Allow me to explain," he says looking into my eyes. His expression is serious so I just nod in agreement. He turns around and turns the corner to the kitchen before walking back to me.
"I am here because your mother invited us over for dinner. As for your mom, she is in the kitchen making dinner, that's why she wanted you to pick some things up at the store," he says, waiting for me to react. "Us?" I ask hesitantly. He doesn't say anything, just walks into the kitchen. My mom is standing over the stove stirring something in a pot talking to the lady sitting at the marble island with a glass of red wine.
"Mother, this is Brooklyn," Eric says, going to stand behind her. "Hello, nice to meet you, you can call me Brook," I say, shaking her hand. "Hello dear, you can call me Lauren, and you are gorgeous," She says, giving me a look up and down. "Why thank you. You look stunning," I say, giving her the same treatment.
If you want people to like you, act like them but treat them as if they are higher than you. If you want someone to dislike you, treat them the opposite of the way they treat you.
"Hello honey, how was the gym? My mom asks, turning towards us and giving me a look up and down before glancing at Eric and his mom. I get the hint that she wants me to change. "It was good, pretty normal however, if you will excuse me I'm going to change," I say as I walk out of the room listening to the charter behind me.
When I'm in my room I open my closet and try to find something flattering but elegant. I picked out a white, long sleeve, low-cut top with nude dress pants, and nude heels. For jewelry a gold chunky chain necklace and gold hoops.
Once I'm dressed and just touching up on my makeup I hear a knock on my door. "Come in," I say, spraying perfume on. "You definitely have two different moods when it comes to style," Eric says, watching me. "I have more than you could imagine," I say in a flirty tone.
I watch the color in his eyes swirl and him tense up. "Dinner is ready, I came to tell you," he says walking out and down the hall. I'm telling you bipolar. I think to myself and roll my eyes following after him. I get downstairs to find everyone sitting down at the table with only one seat open next to Eric. Wonderful. I sit down next to him and he tenses up again as if he is trying not to show emotions. What is with this guy?
After a while of sitting here while our moms talk, he turns to me, doesn't say anything, just looks at me. "What?" I ask, starting to get uncomfortable under his stare. "How did you get those bruises?'' he asks, looking at my hands and jaw. I move my hands so they are out of sight and look away from him. "Most definitely nothing you need to worry about," I say, sipping the ice-cold water. "If you won't tell me then I will just find out on my own," he says leaning back into his chair. "I do kickboxing," I say, rolling my eyes at his dramatics. "I had a sparring partner today at the gym," I say, avoiding his gaze. "How long have you been doing kickboxing?" "What is it to you?" I ask challenging him. "Darling, I wouldn't go there," he growls gritting his teeth.
"Go where?" I ask, smirking. Let's see how far I can push him. "Come with me," he says, standing up and grabbing my wrist. I follow him to the hall where he whirls around to face me. "Did someone do this to you?" He asks, looking at the bruise on my jaw and my knuckles. "The bruises are kinda part of the sport," I say, pulling my hands out of his grasp. "I don't need you to protect me. I can handle myself," I say, taking a step back.
"Don't believe it till I see it, darling," he says, closing the gap between us with one swift move. "I have training tomorrow. Come and watch so you can lay off. And don't call me darling," I say looking him up and down before walking off leaving him standing there in the hall. Little does he know Noah will be my partner for this 'training'. I think to myself.
I go sit back down at the dinner table listening to the conversation my mom is having. "What are you talking about?" I ask to take a bite of food. "Oh just politics," Lauren says, turning to face me. "What are you studying?" she asks, waiting for me to respond. "Art and design," I say proudly. I have always loved doing art. My mom is extremely talented and got me my first set of charcoal pencils when I was 8.
"Oh my, for how long?" She asks, trying hard to look intrigued. Must not be her thing. "Since as long as I can remember. My mom got me hooked on it," I say, sending a smile her way. She looked up from her plate to smile back. "Do you have any of your work?" "Yes I do, I have a portfolio, and pictures," I say, playing with the food on my plate.
"Can I see some?" Lauren asks, setting down her fork. "Uh sure," I say, pulling out my phone. I have a feeling she doesn't care too much so I shuffle through the pictures trying to find one of my personal favorites. It's a realistic drawing of an eye. It's the drawing that took me the longest to complete because of how much detail there was in it. Using white pens to make the glossy apprentice of crying, the readiness in and around the eye of the rubbed tender skin, and the dark lashes.
"Oh my, that is exquisite!" She exclaimed, taking the phone gently out of my hands just as Eric comes back and sits down next to me without saying a word. "Thank you, that is probably the peace that took me the longest," I say proudly. She hands the phone back which I just hide under my bouncing leg. The tension in the air is making my anxiety spike. I try to eat more but the churning in my stomach is avoiding that.
I close my eyes trying to breathe to calm myself down. If I could get outside in the crisp air I wouldn't feel like I'm going to puke. Everyone seems almost done with their food, so I'm hoping they finish soon and I'm excused because I feel bad if I left the table again. I'm still bouncing my leg when I feel a hand on my gently squeeze my thy getting me to stop bouncing.
I send a shocked and confused look to Eric hoping to get an answer from him. "Don't worry about it. Just giving you something else to think about to help you calm down," he whispers, leaning down slightly. The butterflies in my stomach are tight and swirling but I don't feel like I will lose my dinner anymore.
I place my hand on his and gently inlace my hand with his. I don't move our hands off my leg but instead, I ground myself with his help and am able to calm down. "Better?" he whispers, rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand getting my attention. "Much," I say looking up at him with a smile, which he returns. It's small but it's there.
Once we finished our dinner, our parents go into the living room to talk, and I walk up to my room. My mother and I have an unspoken agreement stating that if she invites someone over without me knowing I don't have to be present exempt for dinner, and the same goes for her. So I don't decide to stay and be social.
I close the door to my room behind me, grab sweats and a T-shirt, and walk into the bathroom connected to my room. I turn on the shower so it's cold but not freezing. A cold shower at night helps me sleep, especially with nightmares. I leave my hair down and just let the cold stream run down my body.
There are still so many questions that I need to get answered. Why is all of this so confusing? Nothing makes sense. It's almost like Im missing a big part of this story. Someone is keeping something from me, and I need to find out who and fast. Till then it would be smart to not believe anything I'm told. ———————————————————— He, he, he. Okay for real don't kill me please. I'm so sorry! I know it's been a hot minute since an update!!!
