Chapter 17

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(A/N: OK guys, I just read over my first few chapters and realized how cheesy they were... So I am debating whether or not to go back and re-edit them. . . What do you guys think?  I won't change what happens, just change the words and lay it out better.  Comment what you think I should do.  Also, I realized how I've been accidentally switching from past-tense to present-tense and I'm sorry about that.  It's just, the other sorry I'm working on is present-tense and I get too comfortable with using that style, and then when I come back to write in THIS story, I sometimes forget to switch my brain to work with past-tense.  So please escuse any "slips" I have.  Thanks guys!  AND>>>> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 2,000 READS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) -Writingslayer 

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I didn't realize it, but after the lady tapped on my shoulder, I noticed that I dropped the phone.  Sean and Norman were looking at me confused, and my jaw was wide open.  

My mom?!  Out of jail!?  I thought, my eyes not moving from the floor.

"Grace, are you alright?" Norman asked, hobbling over to me.

I looked up at him after sliding down the front of the desk and whispering "OK, bye," into the phone.  My head shook side to side until I found myself sobbing into Norman's chest, embraced in a tight hug.  

"It's OK, let it out." Norman said, rubbing my back softly and letting me cry my eyes out.  We were sitting on the floor of the lobby, and luckily, it wasn't busy.

I didn't know what it was; maybe the fact that I didn't want to see my mom ever again (And I always planned to), or maybe that I didn't want to leave Georgia, but whatever it was, it wouldn't stop.  It kept pinching me over and over again, and I tried my best to stop weeping over Norman.  I felt bad.

I could feel Norman shifting around while he mouthed something to Sean, but I wasn't sure what.  It felt like he was about to get up, but I just gripped him tighter.  I didn't want to move.  

I could feel my heart about to pound through my chest, and my throat wouldn't stop jumping around.  I held every sob down best I could, but of course, it only made it worse.  I was now coughing and wailing, locking in Norman's arms.

"You wanna tell me what's up?" Norman bent his head down to my ear, and whispered so quietly, that only I could hear.  I didn't move, still trying to figure out what I was going to do.  

I opened my mouth, still enclosed in his warming hug, and flatly said, "It's my mom."

Norman didn't quite understand, apparently forgetting the discussion we had at the jail.

"is she dead?" He asked.

I can't help but laugh a little.  "No.  She's coming home."

Norman tenses a tad, but stays right there.  He forgot that she was in prison.  Norman didn't say another word, simply held me tighter.  This wasn't one of those awkward position hugs that people usually give you, no, this was a comfortable, warming, and passionate hug that was so perfect.  

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked after the silence.

I nodded and slowly lifted my head.  I could feel how puffy my eyes were and how glassy they looked.  My nose would stop running, and I probably looked hideous.  Norman only smiled and puled my hood on.  

Thank God, I thought, not wanting to be seen by anyone but him.

He then pulled me in for a regular hug that seemed just as amazing as the one just a moment ago.

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