The Virginia Threat

4. Goodbye, California

I want to apologize in advance if I get any information regarding California or Virginia incorrect.

I have not been to either, so I'm heavily relying on google for my information lol.

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Stephanie's POV

I practically jump awake at the sound of a blow horn sounding. It sounds like it is right next to my ear. I turn to look in the direction that I heard the incessant sound coming from only for my eyes to land on my mother, who is smiling ear to ear.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I scream out with obvious fright in my tone.

The raven-haired woman continues to smile as she stands over me. "Good morning, Stephanie." She greets. "How did you sleep?" She asks rhetorically.

My voice holds a mixture of panic and annoyance, "It was great until I was woken up by an escaped psych ward patient!"

If my mother finds offense in my statement then she does not show it on her face. In fact, she goes as far as to laugh at me. When her laugh gradually comes to a stop she speaks again.

"Your plane leaves in two hours, sweetheart."

When my evident panic dissipates, it is replaced with a splitting headache. I have no clue if the headache is from my lunatic of a mother or all of the substances that I ingested last night. Either way, it fucking sucks.

"Plane?"

"Yes, your plane to Virginia."

"Wait, you guys were being serious when you said that?"

My mother gives me a blank look. "Yes, Stephanie." She deadpans. "Your father and I have informed the Hartley's of your arrival and they cannot wait to meet you."

Usually I would yell at them. However, the extreme hangover combined with my raging emotions just make me want to cry tears of frustration.

I cannot believe that they are actually sending me away as if I am some sort of juvenile or delinquent child.

I have never done something severely illegal—At least nothing that comes to mind.

"I'll call child protective services on you." I threaten. "Just one accusation about neglectful parenting and you'll be behind bars."

My mother has to forcefully stifle a laugh at my threat, "That's not how that works, Stephanie."

"But I—"

"But nothing." She hurriedly cuts me off, turning to exit my bedroom. "I suggest that you begin packing your suitcase." And with her brisk exit she sounds the blow horn once more.

A drawn out groan falls from my lips as I fall back onto my heavily-cushioned bed. I bring one of my fluffy throw pillows up and over my face, practically suffocating myself with it.

This is the worst day of my life—And this is coming from a girl who once got arrested with cocaine stuffed in her bra!

After nearly ten minutes straight of my mother's annoying blow horn, I finally force myself out of the warm bed. I quickly pop two painkillers and make my way into my large walk-in closet.