"I'm home,"
I call as I
step inside the house
and stomp off my boots
and hang up my
snow-sprinkled coat.
I had seen my mother's car
in the driveway
on my way inside,
so I know for certain
that she must be home
by now.
Why she's back from work
so early,
I can't imagine,
but I suppose that,
as always,
I'll never be able
to predict her actions.
For all I know,
another tree
could have fallen
on her office building.
My mother
is a woman
of mystery.
I hear
nothing
in response to
my announcement
as I leave
the mudroom -
which is strange,
because I would expect
the TV to be turned to
CSI: Miami
or one of her other
favorite shows
if she was home.
This isn't normal,
and in the face of
the day I've had,
I'm not quite sure
what to think
any more.
Maybe she isn't
actually home,
I reason with myself
after a moment of
contemplation.
Maybe Stacey
carpooled her
to work today,
and that explains
why she's left
the car in
the driveway.
I'm too tired
to reason with myself
any further, so I
just shrug
and head off
in the direction of
my bedroom.
My path takes me
past the kitchen;
I'm just passing the door
when a sudden thump
stops me
in my tracks.
I freeze,
barely daring to breathe
as I listen
for anything more.
Nothing -
but I catch myself
before I can
breathe a sigh
of relief.
What if it's
a burglar
in there?
What if they're just
waiting for me
to move on
so they can
make their escape?
I know for a fact
that there is nothing
I could do to stop them,
even if I would
discover their presence,
but I'm not willing
to ignore the possibility
that someone
is in my kitchen.
Slowly, I reach forward
and gently push open
the kitchen door,
peeking my head through
the crack between
it and the door frame.
At first, I find
nothing out of the ordinary.
The dim sunlight
filtering through the
falling snow outside
creates a watery luminescence
in the room,
placing shadows in
all the wrong places.
The floor is splashed
with white
like the distant snow -
which is odd,
and I find myself
leaning forward
to find the reason for it.
There's an open bag
of flour lying
nearby,
which I soon assume
to be the culprit.
My mother's carelessness
must have struck again
while I wasn't home.
Nowhere, however,
is my burglar;
I'm sort of
disappointed
until I hear
another noise
from the other side of
the door.
Without thinking,
I swing it open further
and step inside.
Bad idea.
What I find
behind the kitchen door
shocks me so badly
that I stumble back into
the doorframe behind me
and end up dropping
my backpack
as a result.
It lands on
the tiled floor
with a loud smack
that startles the two women
I had just walked in on
apart.
"What are you doing?"
I ask when I
finally find my voice.
My mother,
her face colored a
beet red,
jumps away from Stacey
with a hastiness
that belies her
self-inflicted guilt.
She's covered in
the same flour
that's covering the floor
nearby;
Stacey seems to have gotten
spots of it
on her clothes as well.
"N-nothing!"
she stammers
unconvincingly -
then, quickly amends:
"We were baking,
and then I dropped
the flour
and Stacey was just-"
"Kissing you.
Yeah,
I kind of
got that
just from looking."
She flinches back
at my words,
as though they had
hurt her somehow.
I'm not quite sure
how harsh that had
come across,
but I am quite sure that
it's obvious
how confused
and irritated I am.
It's not
anything to do
with my sudden realization
that my mother
may not be
quite as straight
as I'd thought her to be,
or even that
I'd accidentally
walked in on her
kissing a woman.
It's because of
who I'd walked in
on her kissing,
and the fact that
she'd never told me
anything
about what her relationship
is with the
dreaded Stacey.
It's like
betrayal, almost.
It's like she's
lied to me
by saying nothing
about things that
obviously concern me.
She's betrayed me
with the woman
that she knows I
absolutely detest,
more than
anyone else.
"Well,"
I snap at last,
startling her
once again,
"have fun with your
baking.
I won't interrupt."
And before she can
say anything to
stop me
or provoke me further,
I turn,
pick up my bag
and stomp off
towards my room.
I don't even bother
to listen for her reply
as I slam the door
and fall onto my bed,
shoving my earbuds
into my ears
and letting music
drown out my
worst fears.
×
WHOOPS, THERE IT IS--
So here we have it, you guys. It's not quite as big as the next (and final) plot twist thingy that I'm planning, but it's setting up issues to be addressed in Undeniable, and that's important, I guess.
So, how do you guys feel about this? Did y'all think it was obviously gonna happen? Because I mean, I personally wouldn't have thought that Flory would have feelings for Stacey, too. But maybe that's just me, I dunno. You would think that she'd be a little dense about these things...
If you guys liked this chapter, I would love if you would vote and leave me some feedback! It would be much appreciated! c:
YOU ARE READING
Misalignment | ✔
Ficțiune adolescenți"There are a million shades of grey between their black and their white - but no one ever cares to see them." In a world with a limited view of gender, Cam Shills struggles to come to terms with their identity as neither male nor female, a shade of...
