Leading You Home

Eighth

"Huuuhm?" I mumble into my pillow. A hand shakes my shoulder, jerking me out of my vivid dream of Chuck Bass, in his smooth, charming voice, begging me to be his....

"I said, my Mom wants to have breakfast with the three of us."

I pick my head up. Bradley is rocking back on his heels in front of the couch in his bedroom-my current bed-with an impatient look in his eyes.

"You're kidding?"

"Why would I?"

I sit all the way up, my stomach twisting and turning uncomfortably.

"Right now?" I ask. He nods. I groan.

This is the first time I'll be meeting this women even though I've been sleeping in her house for five nights. How weird is that? Too weird. What if she thinks I'm a hobo or some kind of troublemaker who deserves to be thrown out of her house?

Lou rushes in then, struggling to put a white t-shirt over his head. It looks like he thinks the arm hole is the head hole which is causing all kinds of issues. "Okay, so-" He cuts himself off to fix his mess. "Wait, hold on," he mumbles into the fabric, wiggling around wildly. That's when there's a tearing noise and Lou quits squirming. "I think I need help."

I swing my legs off the couch and Bradley stands up, going over to his brother's aid. "Why breakfast?"

"Mom likes meeting people in the morning," Bradley answers, guiding Lou's arm through the arm hold of the shirt. "She claims mornings have a way of showing everyone's true colors. Plus, she doesn't have a lot of free time."

Lou's shirt is finally on right but its stretch out in weird places. He refuses to change it.

"Is that um, is that your natural hair?" Lou asks me as I rush to my suitcase and start searching for something to wear. My phone says it's seven-fifteen. Homeroom doesn't start till eight-fifteen so we'll probably have a little less than an hour to spend with their Mom.

I stand while timidly touching my hair. "Yeah....why?"

They start talking over each other.

"I don't know."

"No reason, really."

"It's just kind of...." Bradley traits off.

"Terrifying," Lou finishes for him.

Groaning, I pull my hair back into a pony tail. Then I push past them and into the center of the room in order to get some air. "What should I wear? Do I need to look casually or formal? Should I dress down or up?"

Bradley separates from his brother to stand in front of me. He's wearing a curious grin on his lips and amusement in his eyes. "Are you panicking?"

I give him a pointed look. "Are you smiling at me panicking?"

Bradley chuckles. "Don't worry about my Mom, she's harmless."

And then I remember what my Mom said about first impressions, how they're usually entirely wrong. Although I believe that, it can't take away the tension of meeting someone for the first time. I can't help but feel this is different either, like I need to try harder. If this woman doesn't like me, she could very well kick me out. Where would I go then?

"Okay," I mutter. The boys leave so I can get ready. Not that I'd ever admit it to them but, they were completely right about my hair. It's a little bit terrifying.

After a quick shower, I decide to wear a pair of shorts and a black Firehawk t-shirt. Casual. You can't go wrong with that. I quickly blow dry my hair and take my vitamins. As I'm walking down the stairs, the smell of sweet blueberries and warm coffee grounds excite my senses.