Dear December

Chapter 8

A/n
I felt inspired. I'm not letting this go to waste.
Thank you all for your support on my previous note, I'm so blessed to have such lovely readers.

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Usually, I greet my parents the second I get home from school. Not today though. I can't even look at my mother right now. When I see her eyes, I only see them closed in lustful suspense. When I see her hands, I only see them twined in his hair. When I see her lips, I only see them pressed against Joel's.

I wrestle the front door open, nervousness nipping at my heels like little pythons. A shower that doesn't work and hinges that are as stiff as my mum's posture. Fantastic. In fact, the only good thing about his house is that it's five minutes away from Enya's, not that I've been there more than once. Boy, do I hate job promotions.

The door finally gives, sending me tumbling into the hallway with a pattern of stumbles and trips. I pause, listening as my mum starts walking to see me. Um, no- that's not happening. I immediately start marching up to my bedroom, the only time you'll ever catch me running up a flight of stairs.

"April?"

I hear the click of my door closing behind me and jump onto my bed, pulling out my laptop and pretending to be busy with homework. I have to close countless tabs of Gossip Girl before I reach any maths.

"April? I am home you know." My mum's voice is muffled through the plastered walls. The handle starts to turn. Okay, I'll just have play dumb and try to get her to leave me alone.

"April, what's wrong honey?" My mum enters the room in bare feet and violet swathed toenails. I look up from my laptop innocently.

"What? Nothing's wrong," I hum, chewing on a thumbnail: a nervous habit I should probably get rid of. I drop my hand consciously.

She looks me over with a scrutinising eye. "You haven't said hello yet."

I laugh. It comes out about an octave higher than my normal voice. "I didn't? I'm so sorry! I'm just really, really busy," I say, motioning at my laptop.

My mum narrows her eyes. She knows I'm anxious. "And tired," I add, stretching my arms over my head and fawning a hefty yawn. "So tired, in fact, that I kind of want to be left alone."

Jesus Christ. Why can't I lie for my life?

She moves over to sit on the edge of my bed. Okay. That's great. She'll be here at least half an hour then. "If there's something you need to tell me, then you should just say it."

I chuckle nervously. "No, no. There's nothing I need to say to you."

"It's not a boy, is it? You've hardly been here a week April."

I feel my cheeks warm and I have to chastise myself for even thinking of him right now. I shake my head like 'pfffft'.

She frowns. "I raised you to be honest with me, April. How can our relationship work if you never tell me anything?"

"I have nothing to say to you." I grind my teeth. Hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite. What. A. Hypocrite.

Her voice raises slightly at my dismissive tone. "If you're keeping secrets from me then how am I supposed to trust you?"

My head snaps up to her. "Trust me? Trust me? How am supposed to trust you?"

Why can't I hold my goddamn temper? She knows I know. She must. Her jaw is hanging open like a cupboard door someone forgot to close. Her eyes betray her.