Biography of Heartbreaks

Chapter 2 | A Lonely Girl At Heart

Chapter 2 { A Lonely Girl at Heart }

I was woken up by Imagine Dragons yelling at the top of their lungs. After 21 one unanswered calls, 10 voicemails, and god knows how many text messages, Joey finally picked up his phone.

"Joey! What the fuck, I thought you died-" I began rambling.

I heard a unfamiliar laugh on the other end. "Honey, this is Dylan. Joey's a bit tipsy at the moment so I came and answered the phone," he confirmed. "And you wouldn't stop calling for the past hour. Would you please put a break to that?"

"Don't tell me what to do," I spat. "Put Joey on the phone now, I need to talk to him."

"Sorry, but you can talk to him tomorrow." He said.

"Tomorrow?" I asked."We have school in 30 minutes, what do you mean-"

And then he hung up. Right. In. The. Middle. Of. My. God. Damn. Sentence. I'm going to kill that bastard once he gets back home.

I dragged myself off the bed and made my way to the bathroom. Tying my dark frizzy hair out of the way, I started my morning routine. I rummaged through the mountain of clothes piled up in my closet, grabbing what ever came first. Mom constantly tells me to go clean my closet. But I always pushes it off, giving myself some lame excuse to just do it later. For all I know, there's probably some new species of bacteria living in there. I threw on my pair of dark leggings and a Beatle's band-tee, I've had, ever since I was young. Thanks to dad's "cool choice of music" I was influence to listening to 70's music for half of my life. I don't dislike it. In fact, I prefer those over the crappy ones they make nowadays. It just whenever someone asks me what my favorite song is, I go for a song from the Beach Boys and I automatically get placed in the Hippie criteria.

Heading to the kitchen, I slid down the railing and landed with a thump. The smell of my mom signature Cinnamon French Toast filled the room with a sensational aroma. Oh my god, is the Breakfast Lasagna I smell too? Breakfast Lasagna was our family's favorite dish. It's been ages since my mom decided to make that. Usually, when she does, it's probably because she has to tell us something really important or if Mom did something wrong and is trying to make it up.

"Mom, I love you so much!" I cried. "I'm so sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I just had a bad day. But thanks for making this for me and-"

"Julianne, this isn't for you." Mom paused. "I need to tell you something."

"Is this about Dad breaking the toilet again?" I said, exasperated.

"Hey kiddo, I'm right here!" Dad barked, sending death glares at me.

"No, we have to fly to New York next week." She announced.

The world started spinning and I began to choke on my food. Mom quickly poured me a cup of water, as I quickly grabbed it and took a huge gulp. "What!?" I finally exclaimed.

"You aunt Maggie is having her wedding and she needs us to be there for her," she assured. "It's just going to be a few days before we come back."

"And you're not taking me with you?" I cried.

"Honey, you have school." Mom said, calmly. "Plus, it's not like you're going to help with the wedding anyways."

"Mom, it's New York we're talking about here," I begged. "There's bound to be something to do!"

"Julianne, you're going to be fine! Just don't die when we're gone." My mom said, placing a hand on my arm.

I looked over at Dad who was busy trying to stuff his face with Breakfast Lasagna. He was deliberately trying to stay out of the conversation. "Dad, do something about this?" I plead. "Persuade Mom to let me come!"