The Lucky One (Louis Tomlinson Fan Fic)

Chapter 7- Allie

Chapter 7- Allie

The sun glared through the windshield at baking temperature, and she found herself wishing she’d had the car’s air conditioner fixed. With the window rolled down, her hair whipped in her face, making it sting. She reminded herself again to get a real haircut. She imagined saying to her hairdresser, Chop it all off, Terri. Make me look like a man! But she knew she’d end up asking for her regular trim when the time came. In some things, she was a coward.

“You guys looked like you were having fun.”

“I was.”

“That’s all you can say?”

“I’m just tired, Mom.”

She pointed toward the Dairy Queen in the distance. “You want to swing by and get some ice cream?”

“It’s not good for me.”

“Hey, I’m the mother here. That’s what I'm supposed to say. I was just thinking that if you’re hot, you might want some.”

“I’m not hungry. I just had cake.”

“All right. Suit yourself. But don’t blame me if you get home and realize you should have jumped at the opportunity.”

“I won’t.” He turned toward the window.

“Hey champ. You okay?”

When he spoke, his voice was almost inaudible over the wind. “Why do I have to go to Dad’s? It’s not like we’re going to do anything fun. He sends me to bed at nine o’clock, like I’m still in second grade or something. I’m never even tired. And tomorrow, he’ll have me do chores all day.”

“I thought he was taking you to your grandfather’s house for brunch after church.”

“I still don’t want to go.”

I don’t want to do, either, she thought. But what could she do?

“Why don’t you bring a book?” she suggested. “You can read in your room tonight, and if you get bored tomorrow, you can read there, too.”

“You always say that.”

Because I don’t know what else to tell you, she thought. “You want to go to the bookstore?”

“No,” he said. But she could tell he didn’t mean it.

“Well, come with me anyway. I want to get a book for myself.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry about this, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Going to the bookstore did little to life Matt’s mood. Thought he ended up picking out a couple of Hardy Boys mysteries, she’d recognized his slouch as they’d stood in line to pay for them. On the ride home, he opened one of the books and pretended to be reading.

Allie was pretty sure he’d done it to keep her from peppering him with questions or trying, with forced cheerfulness, to make him feel better about his overnight at he dad’s. At ten, Matt was already remarkably adept at predicting her behavior.

She hated the fact that he didn’t like going to his dad’s. She watched him walk inside their house, knowing that he was heading to his room to pack his things. Instead of following him, she took a seat on the porch steps and wished for the thousandth time she’s put up a swing.

It was still hot, and from the whimpering coming from the kennel across the yard, it was clear that the dogs, too, were suffering from the heat. She strained for the sound of Nana inside. Had she been in the kitchen when Matt walked through, she definitely would have heard her. Nana was a walking cacophony. Not because of the stroke, but because it went part and parcel with her personality.