Never Again

Chapter Two

Enjoy!!
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That momentous night occurred almost a year and eleven months ago. Time has flown by: Marry asked me to be his girlfriend- I said yes, obviously; I graduated from college, got a job at my dad's business firm, and I moved in with Matty. He and I split rent fifty-fifty; he buys the groceries and I cook. His apartment is in a nice part of town, and it's spacey enough: a kitchen with a small dining area, living room, two bedrooms with two bathrooms, and even a little book that Matty has so graciously made into my reading area. Overall, I couldn't be happier.

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"Hey, honey!"

The door swings open before I even get a chance to knock. Marty's there, his blonde hair messy like always. He's wearing a pair of shorts, no shirt. Even after the past months, I still get shivers seeing his toned body. The ripples of his abs and firm arms are still prominent, despite the fact that he doesn't work out as much.

"Hey there." As soon as he pulls me inside, his mouth is on mine. So recognizable, that mint mixed with his laundry detergent; it has become my favorite smell.

"Babe," I mutter between kisses. He mumbles back what I think is a "what?", but he doesn't stop kissing me. I try and break away but he tosses us on the couch and I let out a squeak as he licks me like a dog. "What the heck?" I laugh.

"You seemed to have had a bad morning, and I wanted to see you smile." He says sheepishly. My heats swells as he says that, and I can't help but want to kiss him again.

"Thank you, babe." I peck his cheek and he smiles. Grabbing my hand, he begins to play with it; it is silent for a but, but comfortably so.

"What do you want to do for supper," he asks. Granted, it was only noon, but I know he likes to be prepared. It is one of my favorite things about him.

"Well,  actually, I wanted to tell you about something." This got his attention; he perks up, still holding my hand. "My mom called, and well, she invited us over for supper." I await his reply nervously. Matty loves my parents and how they approve of us, but not how they treat me sometimes.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?"

I could tell he is excited to go, and I can't hold him back from seeing them again- it's been awhile since I've seen them, now that I think about it.

"Yea, I think so." I stretch out across the couch, letting my head rest on Matty's lap. "It's been awhile since I've seen them anyways." I finger a loose thread on my sweater, moving it between the pads of my fingers.

       My mind wanders back to my parents, my family, and I realize that j do miss them, in an odd way. My parents are the normal east-side kind, and that's why I'm okay with not living with them anymore. They are power-hungry, money-driven people that only focus on the two "most important" things in life which, in their minds, are success and reputation, which are controlled by power and money. It's all very confusing, but the bottom line is that they are pretty sucky parents. They never let me do anything that I really wanted to do. For example, all I was excited for was to learn to play the piano. All I got, however, were bloodied toes and too many blisters to count: AKA, ballet. It was torture, especially because they couldn't bother to come to any recitals- they just sent the maid or the nanny to pick me up. Let's just say that my childhood wasn't the best. Despite the money my parents had, they lacked in love.

My little sister, Charlotte, is another story though. She's the best little sister anyone could ever ask for. Lottie is seventeen, so thank God she's past the boy-band phase, but she's not quite an adult, and therefore still needs a careful eye on her. She's basically the bumper between myself and my parents, a good middle-man. She speaks her mind  but knows when to hold her tongue. My young but seemingly wise old-owl is my best friend: she and I used to stay up all night gossiping and painting our nails, just being sisters. I miss that, and I miss her.