Hey Guys! Okay so chapter 2! I absolutly love this story, and I'm sorry if you're looking for an upload on my Hunger Games Fan-Fic, but I really want to keep writing this... and I'm not super duper happy with any of my other stories. I feel like I need to re-write them, and I just don't feel like it right now. I hope that's okay... :-/
Anyways... Comment, Vote, Fan! Enjoy this chapter please? And will you please comment so I at least know what you guys think? :-) The picture to the right is Henry Rolland (aka Leo Bill)
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"Henry! Get your ass out of my room this instant!" I scream at the red haird-blue-eyed man sitting on my bed looking through my personal photo album.
"Well, arn't we a bit sassy today?" He says in his better-than-you attitude. His stuffy rich-kid accent almost sends a chill down my spine.
"Why are you in here? You're not allowed the privilege just yet you know," I say trying to calm my tone, but not really succeeding.
Henry simply stands up and walks to the window, not saying anything. His clothes are those out of an old movie, set back in colonial time. The white button down lace shirt with the pants exceptionally clean and well ironed. His dark shoes shiny, looking like they had just been taken off the shelf. Just as he's about to turn around he sees Michael walking down the street in the rain, to his same crumbling apartment down the block. He turns to look at me, his nose pointed slightly upward, as if he's always in disgust.
"You're not supposed to be fraternising with other... boys. We're practically married, and I forbid it alright?"
"I can talk to other guys if I want to Henry! He's my friend and you sure as hell can't forbid that!" I raise my voice at him. I hate it when anybody tells me what to do. I always have. Tell me to do something and I will do the exact opposite. My mother always said it was in my genes, that I'd done it since I was little. Just like my father, she had told me time and time again.
"Lee James Cambel! You will not speak to me like that! I'm your fiance and there is nothing that will change that. And we both know it, so just --," he stops calming himself, "can we please just try to... get along?" he then just walks over.
He places a hand on my head, and rolls it through my now sopping wet hair, slowly forming it's natural curls, which I know he hates. I look up at him, towering over me. I'd always hated being so short too.
"I guess," I finally let out with a sigh, "now can I change out of these clothes, before I catch a cold?" I say pushing away. He smirks at me, "I meant alone you pervert!" I then push him out with a slam of my door.
I brush my wet hair back into a wet ponytail and rub my hands off in my sheet covers. I grab my worn purple shirt and a pair of my favorite jeans out of my closet and run to my bathroom to change. When I glance at the mirror I can't help but pull my eyes away. The big brown eyes staring back at me, rain still strewn in my hair. My mascara just barely smearing.
I then remind myself that I'm supposed to be downstairs and get dressed. When I'm finished I wipe the smeared make-up from my face, turn off my bedroom light and sprint for the stairs, sliding down the banister like I'd always done. A sweet aroma emanates from the kitchen, I then realize how hungry I am and dash towards the cracked opening to the over-used space of my crumbling home.
My mother and father sit at the table with Henry chatting quietly, "good you're home," my mother stands up and gives me a light kiss on my forehead.
"What was for dinner?" I ask her heading to the stove where a still-warm pan sits. I lift the lid and see a little bit of Hamburger Helper left. I grab a plate from the cabinet, load it with the remainder of warm meat from the pan and sit next to my father.
"What did you do all day?" My daddy asks me rubbing my shoulder bringing my head to his chest for a hug. He'd done this since Gavin...
"I went Ms. Rosie's with Michael," I choke out, "she's come up with a new bread thing. Oh my god it's so freaking amazing. It's called Razdan and I think it's probably the best thing she's come up with so far. And then Michael took me to our old fort..." I smile reminiscing on the day. I glance to the left to see that Henry is looking at me stiffly.
"Well that sounds like fun," he says letting me go, allowing me to eat. I feel like a pig shoving my face and it's hard to contain myself.
I finish quickly and get up to rinse my plate off and gently place it in the dishwasher, and start it, like I've always done. I plop back in my seat and rest my head on my father's shoulder, "So watcha guys talking about?"
Henry sighs, talking for the first time, "Well I guess I had to tell you sometime," he pauses. Henry has given me plenty of surprises in the past so I'm not really... well, surprised, "I'm taking you on a cruise. Just the two of us for two weeks on the sea, what do you think?" he asks almost nonchalantly.
I'm actually surprised this time. I'd always wanted to go on a cruise, that was my dream as a little girl, but that was never a possibility. My parents were always dirt poor, they had been called "married to music" since I was born. Whenever I told other kid's parents my last name the smiles would disappear. When I walked by other kids I would get the whispers, and as you could guess I was always the odd kid out. We'd never had enough money and, sometimes, on my birthday or Christmas I would go without presents.
"Oh wow, that sounds," I get all worked up and then realize that I'd be alone... with Henry, "that sounds like fun," I then finish flatly.
"You don't sound like you want to go. We could go somewhere else if you would like. It's up to you..." he trails off.
"No, no, no. It sounds great," I say and reach over and hug him awkwardly. He rubs his hand on my back sending an uncomfortable shiver down it and he lifts away.
"Well doesn't that sound exciting?" My mother chirps happily from the sink where she is washing her hands.
"Yeah, you've always wanted to go on a cruise right honey?" my father asks.
"Yeah. I always have," I say in response looking down at the intricate floral pattern on the tablecloth.
"You'll be ready tomorrow right?" Henry looks at me expectantly.
"Ready for what?" I ask still not looking up.
"The... move...?" He asks posing between each word. This is when I look up, I'm not supposed to leave until Monday, "what day is today?"
"It's Sunday sweetheart," my mother says returning to the table.
"Are you sure?" I ask in confusion.
"Yeah baby-doll," my dad places the back of his hand to my forehead, "are you feeling alright? You look pale," he says with a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"Honey maybe you should go lay down, Henry will be back tomorrow for us," my mother says quickly helping me out of my seat and upstairs, but not before Henry catches me.
"Feel better alright," he tells me without even a hint of feeling and bends down and kisses me deeply. His tounge has just traced my bottom lip when my mother, thankfully, inturrupts him. Which I'm thankful for, because if she hadn't I would have pushed him off of me and slapped him so hard he would have ended up in last Tuesday.
She thanks him again and pushes me upstairs. I retreat to my room in a sprint and slam the door, locking it behind me. I run to my bed, jam the earbuds of the old stollen iPod into my ears, crank the music up as high as it will go. And for the first time in what seems like decades, I begin to cry.
YOU ARE READING
Spiders
Teen FictionLee's life is... complicated. She is forced into marriage by her dirt-poor parents to one of the wealthiest families in the U.S. She's forced to leave her childhood best friend Michael, the only person she trusts outside her family. To be married to...