Love Sick

Chapter 2

"What happened?" My mom asked wide eyed, as I made my way into the house. Water from my hair dripped on to the hard wood floor.

I didn't say anything. I just hugged her. Hugging my mom is amazing. It feels like nothing can harm you, like there was no problems that we couldn't solve together.

My dad came in to see what all the commotion was about, and went straight into protective dad mode. "What happened? Who do I need to hurt? Just say one name and I'm gone."

My mom slapped his arm, signaling that this wasn't the time. 

She pulled me away so she could look me in the eye, "How about I make us some tea while you go change into some dry clothes. Then we can all sit on the couch, so you can tell us what happened."

"That sounds great mom," I said wiping away a tear.

I made my way down the hall to my room. My room was pretty big for a one story house. I had a full sized Bed that was wrapped with a comforter my mom got me for Christmas. I had a small walk-in closet to the side, and the walls were a simple gray.

I changed into some sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. I scrubbed the make-up off my face. And finally threw my hair into a messy bun, to get it away from my face. 

I sighed looking at the mirror, where a picture of Logan and I was kept. We looked so happy together. Was he faking it the whole time?

More importantly what do I do with this picture? If I kept it, it would seem like I was holding on to him. But I couldn't rip it up. It was a memory of our love, the time we shared together. I put in in my top dresser drawer. Out of sight out of mind right?

I made my way back up the hall, and into our living room. Abby was sitting on the couch next to dad, and my mom was still in the kitchen finishing up the tea.

When she came in. I breathed in heavily, so I wouldn't tear up again and started talking, occasionally sipping the tea.

Once finished my dad almost went to Logans' house with his gun. Don't worry he wouldn't shoot anyone, it would just have been to scare the daylights out of him.