Utterly In Love

Chapter Three

Addison James

I was trying to figure out how I felt about my dad re-marrying and also how my mom was going to feel. Was she going to be invited to the wedding? Probably not. And I knew she would definitely be pissed. My mother, although knowing in this situation it might be awkward, hated not being included. I decided to give her a call to find out what was up. She answered after three rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey, mom, its me, Addison."

"Yeah, I know. Caller ID."

"So, uh, why'd you flip out earlier?" I asked, already knowing the response I was going to get.

My mom sighed. "No reason. Not getting any sleep put me in a mood," she was lying. It was so clear to me. But I didn't know why she was lying.

"Okay, if you say so, mom." With that, I hung up. I didn't really feel like having a conversation with her when she was just gonna brush everything off. Things with my mom were hard at times because she wasn't very open with anybody. She liked to hold things in until she couldn't take it anymore, and that was why she often flipped out on people.

I never talked to her during the weekends, with the exception of today, because I didn't want her to yell at me and ruin my day, and I don't think she even cared that much. About me calling, I mean. She never said anything to me about ignoring her when I was with my dad, anyway.

I opened my eyes and looked down at my still body. I was in my pajamas from when I left my mom's house and a plain black t-shirt. I had done nothing in the past hour so I decided to ask my father to take me to the craft-store. My clothes usually were stuffed, not folded, into the drawers of my dresser, but when I went to change my clothes, all of it was gone! Oh boy, did my dad throw away my clothes? Donate it? My left eye twitched, like it always did when I was about to blow. Hold on, I said to myself, maybe he didn't throw them away, maybe they're in the wash. I stomped down the stairs and into the kitchen. The lovebirds were still at the table, talking about something I didn't care for.

"Dad? My clothes. Where did you put them?" Now, I don't know if people usually called Christine "dad" back wherever she lived, but the point was that I wasn't talking to her. So, you can just guess who cut in after my question. "Your clothes? Oh honey, they're in your closet! You just had them soo unorganized so I decided to help out by washing it and hanging it all up in your closet."

Okay, Addison. Lets get this straight. She looked through your room, took your already clean clothes, washed them, and put them in the place they were not originally in. Okay. Without a single word, I walked out of there and went back upstairs. I'm so sorry, but Christine was annoying as hell. I sighed and basically dragged my feet to the closet. There, only one side of it was filled. From tops to bottoms. I grabbed a pair of leggings that were folded on the shelf over the bar that held my clothes and a green t-shirt with my school's name on it in golden letters. I switched my pj's with the clothes I had just picked and looked in the mirror.

Hot was definitely not an adjective used to describe me, unless,of course, you were describing me dressed head to toe in black down in Texas during the summer. I was puny. 5'2" with the body of a twelve year old boy, and honestly, I dont understand how a man confused me for a grown women at Walmart a couple weeks ago. Sure, I got to joke around and say "Five two with an attitude" anytime someone asked my height, but it also meant that all the freakishly tall (and cute) guys just looked over me. It also took about three of my longest steps to catch up to one of their strides. I hated having short legs.

My clock, set down on my night stand, read 8:55am. Most of the stores here opened up at 9am so I decided to leave the house now. I put up my hair into a high pony and left my room. My dad called my name from downstairs and I went to see what he wanted to tell me.