Stuck » h.s. (UNDER EDITING)

twenty four

EMMA'S POV:

Stupid New York traffic. I've been stuck in it for the past three hours and I'm just trying to get back to Brooklyn. Forced to spend Thanksgiving with a family that's critical and uptight about everything isn't my definition of a break. I'm already irritated because of the Shawn thing and having to go home to my judgmental family, plus my sister with her dumb husband and her annoying toddler that never shuts up.

And I never got to see Harry after last night. He wasn't around this morning before I left. I tried knocking on his door for about five minutes and I assume he was ignoring me. Not a single part of me blames him. I wouldn't want to see me either.

So I've left with our relationship-whatever the hell it is- on bad terms and I've had no sleep. This honking and the oh so lovely stop, go, stop, go, stop, go of traffic is driving me to my breaking point.

Apparently I've been lost in thought for too long, because there's a long space in front of me and about a million different horns screaming at me. My windows are rolled down and some scruffy man behind me yells, "What the fúck are you doing bítch? We've got places to be! Move!"

Angered, I unbuckle and hang my head out of my window with my middle finger sticking up in the air. "It's a red light! All I can do is move further up in the completely stopped line! That's what traffic is asshole! Fúck you!" I scream back and fall into my seat with a heavy sigh.

My phone rings and I put it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Emma?"

"Yeah, it's me, Mom."

"Where are you? You should've been here hours ago," she says with irritation clear in her voice.

"I got stuck in traffic. I'm sorry. I'm doing the best that I can," I reply.

"You know this time of day has bad traffic. Why didn't you leave earlier? You're pushing all of our plans," she snaps.

"Mom, just go without me. I'll be there when you get back. I had a long night so I left a little later than anticipated."

"That was irresponsible of you, Emma. You knew you had to leave in the morning, why would you stay out late?"

"Because I'm twenty years old."

"Are you drinking and partying again? Emma, I did not send you to college for you to party. And your apartment is a privilege because I thought you were responsible enough."

"Mom, I'm not partying again. I simply had a late night. And I am responsible. Seriously, I have a job at HarperCollins and my grades are pretty much perfect. I was going to save this news for when I got there, but my book is being published also!" I raise my voice at the end, becoming fed up with her bullshít.

"You are being very disrespectful by raising your voice with me, young lady. Your grades shouldn't be pretty much perfect, they should be perfect," she clips in disapproval.

"Mom, I can't do this with you right now. I'll call you when I get close," I say and hang up the phone, tossing it into the passenger seat.

The horrid traffic finally begins to inch forward and I try not to think about my mother and the fact that no matter how hard I try, it's never good enough. She's controlling and insane. Sometimes, I just wish I could disappear. She's going to find so many things wrong with me during my time there and be so critical. And that is something I do not need to deal with.

I consider turning around and going back home, but then I would most likely end up homeless since my mother would rid me of an apartment. Which puts Eleanor out of a home too. So this is the price I'm going to have to pay.