We Were Once Wallflowers Part: One - An Extreme Dark Bully Romance

Part 3 - The Choice - Scene 1 - Tuesday

Originally written and posted on 3/23/2024 

Please Note: This first draft is subject to change upon official publication, including the addition of never-before-read scenes. If you enjoyed this chapter, please show your support by liking and following me for more smutty dark romance featuring all the controversial elements readers love—or love to hate.

Part 3 - The Choice - Scene 1

"Did you check the traffic yet?" Jane's father called from the hallway.

"We have more than enough time," Jane's mother yelled from across the dining table, her gaze flicking to Jane's freshly toasted Pop Tarts resting on a paper towel.

"Is that all you're eating?" Jane's mother asked, her coffee paused at her mouth. "At least eat something remotely healthy. Here–" She extended a slightly overripe banana, and Jane accepted it silently, knowing her mom wouldn't accept no for an answer.

"Are you sure?" Her father called out. "I spent a fortune on last-minute tickets. I don't want to be late."

"Then shut up and finish packing. I'm waiting for you," her mom retorted, blowing softly over her steaming coffee mug before taking a sip. "And don't forget your blood pressure meds!" she yelled before taking another sip. "Last thing we need is you having a heart attack next." She grumbled under her breath.

Jane peeled the banana, discarding the over-busied and discolored tip. She hated them overripe.

"I swear, Jane, you eat like a picky two-year-old," her mother teased, leaning over to snatch the chunk off the paper towel and popping it into her mouth. "See? Tastes just fine."

"When will you guys be back?"

"Funeral's Wednesday at noon. I think your father said we fly back late Sunday night." Her mom took another sip of her coffee. "Honey!" She shouted. "When do we get back again?"

"10 pm Sunday?"

"We'll be home at 10 pm on Sunday."

Jane observed her mother, her gaze lingering on the subtle signs of distress etched across her features. Red, puffy eyes. Dark circles. She mirrored Jane's exhaustion.

"How's grandpa doing?" Jane asked, popping the rest of the banana into her mouth.

"Not great. The neighbors are keeping him company until we arrive."

"How are you?"

"My mom died yesterday. How do you think I feel?" Her mother's coffee cup clinked against the table as she set it down, her attention still fixed on her phone screen.

"I didn't mean–"

Her mother emitted a low grunt, sniffling and swiping at her cheeks. "I slept like crap. And your father left everything to the last minute again."

"I'm sorry grandma died."

"Me too." Her mother tapped something on her phone. "Sadly, the world doesn't have a pause button. Life continues whether you want it to or not."

"I–"

Her mother raised the phone to her ear and rose from her seat. "Hi Richard. I'm so glad you picked up."

Without so much as a glance in Jane's direction, her mother circled the dining table and hurried down the hallway, just as her father emerged, suitcase and carry-on in hand.

"Whatcha got there, kid?" he asked, rushing past her to the front door.

"Lukewarm Pop Tarts, want one?" Jane held one out to him, and he snatched it without a word, vanishing down the hallway once more.

Jane stared at her half-eaten Pop Tart, the sweetness overwhelming her mouth. She couldn't fathom why she even bothered with them. They tasted dreadful.

"Stop eating that garbage!" Her mother's shrill voice shattered the silence, accompanied by hurried footsteps. "We need to leave in 10 minutes!"

"Mom?"

Her mother darted to her purse on the kitchen counter. "I got my purse, wallet, and car keys." She patted herself down, extracting her phone from her back pocket to tuck it into her bag. "Got my phone." With a swift motion, she pulled her dark brown hair into a high ponytail. "Crap. Can you grab my charger off my nightstand?" she called out.

"Got it and mine," her father's voice echoed from their bedroom.

"Mom?" Jane pivoted in her seat, observing her mother's frantic actions.

"Did you pack your meds?" Her mother called down the hallway.

"You already reminded me!" Her father's reply echoed back.

"Mom?"

Her mother swung open the fridge and sighed. "Shit." She hurried back to her purse, extracting her wallet and fingering out a few bills along with a plastic card, placing them on the kitchen counter. "I'm leaving a list of important numbers in case you can't reach us on our cells." Scribbling a few lines on a pad meant for grocery lists, she continued, "Here's $80 for groceries or order takeout. I don't care which. Also, we're trusting you with our emergency credit card. Use it wisely."

"Mom!"

"What?" Her mother whirled around, as if only just noticing Jane.

"I'll be fine. Chill out, mom."

Jane's father emerged from the hallway, clutching two chargers in one hand and an orange bottle of pills in the other.

"I thought you packed those?" Her mother's attention snapped to the bottle, her balled up hands on her hips.

He tossed it to his wife. "You forgot your sleeping pills."

"I knew I was forgetting something!" She sighed, stuffing the bottle and chargers into her purse. "I'll go wait in the car." She paused at the front door. "Jane?"

Jane rose from the table, the uneaten Pop Tart wrapped in the paper towel clutched in her fingers.

"Don't burn the house down. And we'll call you sometime tonight."

"I'll do my best." Jane dropped her trash into the can. "Tell Gramps hi for me."

"We'll set up a Face Time, so you can talk with him." Her mother headed out, leaving the door ajar.

Her father paused. "No wild parties. And definitely no boys. Got it?"

"Because I'm the life of the party, obviously," Jane snorted, rolling her eyes with a huff.

"We're trusting you, kid. Screw this up and your mother–"

"–will freak out." Jane finished for him. "Yeah, yeah. I got it."

Her father dug out his car keys and wallet. "I'm giving you some extra cash in case you need it and my keys. There should be a full tank of gas in my car. If there isn't–"

"Dad, seriously, I'm not a little kid anymore. I'll be fine. If anything goes wrong,, I'll call you or the cops."

"Don't disappoint us." He passed her a folded stack of bills and his keys. "Take the bus to school and leave the car in the driveway. It'll give the impression someone's home. And if you go out before dark, keep a light on in the living room. Understand?"

"Yeah, seriously. It's like you think some random masked stranger's gonna bust in here and snatch me up."

"Call us if you need anything. And text your mom at least once a day so she knows that you're alive."

"Will do."