(#1) Roommates by Day, Enemies by Night

Chapter 31

Hard to accept the end of a story that won the villain against heroes.~Toba Beta

Dedicated to the wonderful and always lovely, flower94123 for her crazy awesome comments and lovely votes. Thanks for the support!

Siena

So how many people actually like their families? I mean, sure, we love them and everything, but do we like them? I know at least, when I was younger, I would spend most of my time huddle up in my room because I didn't want to interact with them. We weren't exactly the Tanners. My philosophy is that because we choose our friends, we love and like them. But since we can't chose our family, we love them and are forced to stick by them. Our family's kinda forced to love us, our friends choose to. I think that's my philosophy. Or maybe I got that off a sentimental Tumblr post.

For many people, spending the holidays with their family is something of a beauty. They love staying at their childhood home with their siblings, singing sickening Christmas carols and telling each other stories about their life away from home. Why would you do that when the same thing can be achieved with an email or text? Then you can also go back to what you were doing.

Waking up the next morning, I felt premonition of a sense of dread. Or maybe it was just common sense, since we were going home today, and I got to spend the entire day there, along with having to leave really late at night because we had to eat dinner. Yay!

I hate spending the holidays at home. They just never appealed to me in general. The caroling, the small town spirit, enough lights to strangle a Santa Claus twenty-nine times. Wow, do I sound like a bitch or what. I can't help it. I was just never a very enthusiastic person when it came to holidays in Myers Park, New York.

Yep, that's right. I live in the most picturesque little town on the East Coast. I want to gag. This town wasn't like all those dramatic ones you see on TV, like Gatlin. (A/N: Reference anyone?)

No, this town was even worse. People could get out if they wanted, many just didn't choose to. Yep, that's right. People chose to stay here with their seven kids and two dogs and grills where they cooked hot dogs every Fourth of July and elderly people still knitted. Ugh, I want to throw up just thinking about it.

Growing up in a place like this, I never really saw the appeal of a small town, and I was pretty much the only one who didn't. Calli had the same attitude as me after she moved here from San Francisco, even though her parents loved it, but she was only here for senior year, and Dylan and Jake had lived their whole lives here.

I was the child in my family who couldn't wait to get away, probably why I left Myers Park right after graduation. Best decision ever. Coming back was painful.

Just looking out on Main Street, (we have a Main Street, that should tell you how cliche we are) I felt boredeom piling up in me. New York was different, like coming up for fresh air after being stuffed in a stuffy room for 15 years. Here in Myers Park, there were a few chain businesses, but it was mainly home operated business. We had a stationery store. Who the fuck has a stationary store anymore?

While driving, we passed pet salons, hair places, and insurance places, all of which I had never heard of before. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and stared out the window, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

Dylan glanced over at me while driving. I was still half asleep, since we had to leave New York by 6 to get here by 9, so he took the wheel. "Not feeling homesick?"

"I'm feeling homesick for the home I actually like." I muttered, staring in contempt at all the stores. What a sugar town.

"You couldn't avoid your mother forever. You know how Rose is."