Unpredictable Love

Chapter 1

I am not who I once was. Time and suffering does that to a person.

The plane jolts and my fingers clench around the seatbelt that's strapped across my lap. Dread fills me as I remember why I've been doomed to this god awful flight.

Mom is furious with me  and I'm convinced she'll never want to see me again--not that I give a shit, but still. If I had just suffered in silence like every other over emotional teen, my life wouldn't be circling the drain right now.

A list starts to form in my head and I make note of everything I've managed to fuck up until this point.

One, drinking.
Two, smoking.
Three, lying.
Four, sneaking around.
Five, making my Mother's current life situation ten times harder than it needs to be.

As if her current life situation wasn't hard enough already without me behaving foolishly. The list is endless honestly and my mother and Aunt Jocelyn decided that I'll be residing in Dallas indefinitely. Of course, I'd protested considering I'm eighteen, but refusal wasn't an option apparently. Mom said just because I'm a legal adult doesn't mean I'm a mental adult and I'm obviously not wise enough to make adult decisions.

Whatever.

Yeah, because sending me to a different state is going to effect my behavior. She clearly needs to work on her problem solving skills. Doesn't she realize that my dad is dead. Dead. Like, in the ground and six feet under. Not her or my aunt, or fucking Dallas, Texas can change that. They could at least cut me some slack, I think I have some excuse to act ridiculous.

A loud chime echoes through the cabin jolting me and tearing me away from my thoughts. I've been thinking about death a lot lately, not in a suicidal way... just thinking. The loud voice of the pilot, I assume, comes over the intercom. My ears tune in to the announcement, and much to my relief, I learn we were starting to land.

My stomach clenches and I mentally rebuke myself. Eighteen years old and still terrified or air transportation. I really do need to grow up. Before he died, my dad used to tease me about my fear. He'd said it was irrational and that planes love to be in the air.

Sounds come from the belly of the plane and I concentrate on keeping my breathing steady. The pathetic thing is, I used to fly to Tess every summer to visit my Aunt. You'd think by now I'd be used to the routine of flying. Not even close. Coming to Dallas used to be my favorite thing, but now that I'm being forcefully sent as some time of bootleg intervention, I'm pissed.

I suck in a deep breath as I peek out of the window and notice just how close to the ground we are. My lips seal together and I pause my breathing as I brace myself for impact. The wheels of the plane slam against the runway and my entire body jolts. We're still moving at a frighteningly fast speed but I'm glad to be back on the ground.

A series of announcements were made by the flight attendants about how we should stay seated until informed otherwise. A bell rang throughout the plane and seatbelt began clicking all around the plane. Slowly and gradually, a line begins to  form and everyone starts to make their way off of the airplane. I grab my mocha colored Micheal Kors purse and sling it on to the crease of my elbow. As I file off of the plane, I fumble through my bag in search of my headphones eager to plug them in before I reach Aunt Jocelyn. I don't bother playing actual music, she won't disturb me if she sees the chords hanging from my ears.

When I arrive at baggage claim, my eyes meet Aunt Jocelyn's blue orbs that are a mirror image of my mother's--and mine. I quickly divert my attention away from her, and don't bother to approach her. In my peripheral, I take not of the way she sighs and walk towards me and I mentally groan. Here comes alcohol anonomyous... only not anonymous. I can feel her body radiating warmth as she stands next to me but I don't bother looking in her direction. She taps my shoulder and I dreadfully glance her way, tugging out an earphone.

She's attempting to start a conversation with me? "How was your flight?"

For a moment, I'm dumbfounded. How can she stand here and act as if she isn't the secondary reason why I had to take the god damned flight to begin with. I contemplate responding, but when all of the responses I can think of seem to harsh, I shove my earphone back into my ear.

Her bottom lip slips between her teeth and she nibbles on it nervously. "You used to love coming to stay with me."

Had I actually had music playing through my earbuds, I wouldn't have heard her quiet remark. Since I didn't, I hear the ache in her words. Rolling my eyes I say "That was before Mom started sending me here as a punishment. Now can we cut the shit and leave?" My hands now have ahold of my luggage and I lift them ever so slightly so she can see that I have everything that I need.

Aunt Jocelyn purses her lips and her head bobbles in a short nod. Stepping in front of me, she leads the way towards her car. She's eyeing my cautiously as we settle into the car and I glare at her. "What?" I snap and a soft smile tugs on the corners of her lips.

Her shoulders rise and fall. "Nothing, you just look different."

I habitually roll my eyes. "Not really, you just saw me a few months ago." I refer to my Father's funeral that's still too fresh to converse on.

"Yeah, but your body's matured. It seems more woman like. And your hair seems to be getting lighter. Mine did the same thing when I was around your age. It went from dark brunette to a dirty blonde. Just like yours seems to be doing." Aunt Jocelyn observes in awe and my eyes roll again. My attention is directed to whatever is happening outside of the window. Aunt Jocelyn lets out a long, exhausted sigh and starts driving.

**

My bags are shoved into the closet of the guest bedroom I'll be staying in. The only bag that isn't stuffed with the others, is laying on my bed. I unzip the narrow bag and pull my laptop out of the sleeve. Falling forward, I flop onto my bed and FaceTime my best friend. As FaceTime rings, I notice a crystal vase perched on the stand beside my bed. Looking at the vase triggers my craving and I jam my hand into the back pocket of my jeans in order to get my cigarettes. One is placed between my lips and I light the stick. Angelyse's face appears in my laptop screen as I suck in a breath of my cigarette.

Her smiling face quickly fades into a glare. "Would you stop smoking those death traps already? We get it, you're rebelling."

When I shrug my shoulders and blow my smoke directly at her she rolls her eyes. Angelyse's hates the fact that I hardly care about anything anymore, especially my health. Not that it matters, my father was the healthiest person I knew and that didn't expand his life any further.

"So how's Texas? Feeling like a cowgirl yet?" She grins.

"That's so stereotypical of you." I laugh lightly. "This sucks, Ang. I wish this whole thing would blow over with my mom already. I'm ready to come home."

Angelyse isn't given the opportunity to respond, because my Aunt bursts into the room with a look of fury on her face. I mumble a quick goodbye to Angelyse then slam the computer shut.

Aunt Jocelyn yanks the cigarette out of my mouth. I can't hear my thoughts over how loud my aunt is screaming at me. She's snatched the vase, that I was using as an ashtray, away from me. My eyelids are blinking profusely as my aunt continues to scold me for smoking inside of her house. She stomps out of the room with a sincere warning of smoking and slams the door behind her.

I go to sleep early, not having many choices on ways to spend my time. I do not call my mother. I do not come out of my room.