Until Now

A/N: PLEASE READ THIS NOTE.

Hey guys! How's everyone doing? Well, here's what I'm thinking, Until Now is the only story I'm going to be focusing on for some time. I really love the potential this one has. I've been working SO hard on this, literally, I think about it 24/7. No exaggeration, everything's been inspiring me.

Anyway, I currently have this on my other account. Here's the first chapter, so you guys can check it out. This will be the ONLY chapter I'm posting on this account. You can find the rest of the story on the account YouShouldSmile.

The link is www.wattpad.com/user/YouShouldSmile.

The link to the story, Until Now, is the external link for easier access. Please, do all your voting and commenting on the OTHER story. (It's the external link, it' super easy to get to.)

Again, like I said, I've been working so hard. This chapter is one of my least favorites, I promise it gets better. My writing's been improving, and I'm super passionate about this story. I'd really appreciate it if you all could check it out. It's SO important to me. And please, vote and comment (on the other version.) and share with your friends!! Please, please, please. I love you all, thank you!!

Xoxo,

YouHadMeAtHello/YouShouldSmile

 "Maisie!" I didn't turn around. Instead, I flipped the pancake, sliding it back and forth in the pan. The voice behind me seemed worried, but I knew that as usual, my mother was probably just being overdramatic. The music blaring in my ears didn’t prevent me from hearing her, but it certainly gave me good reason to ignore her. While it wasn’t as loud as she suspected it was, it was definitely loud enough to claim it made it impossible to make out her words.

“Maisie!”

Her voice was much louder now; it wouldn’t be possible to pretend I couldn’t hear her.

"Hmm?" I tugged at the headphones, listening to the voice behind me.  

"Damn it, Maisie. I'm late! I've been calling you for five minutes!" I heard the chair move out, the legs dragging across the floor, scratching. I wasn’t even tempted to turn to look at her, instead focusing my eyes on the cooking pancake.

"Sorry," I mumbled, rolling my eyes.”

"How many times have I told you to lower that?" I waited, knowing this was a rhetorical question. Sure enough, she spoke again. While she sounded annoyed, I knew it was just her nerves again. I glanced up at the clock. "I'm late," she claimed. She wasn’t though. She was, in fact, early enough to go back to bed for an hour and still make the flight.

My mother wasn’t used to flying. Most of her work travels involved trains or cars. She had always felt the need to arrive at airports hours in advance, even though my father, who flew a lot, insisted that you only really had to be there an hour or two before your flight. She had four and a half, and the drive would only fill thirty of those minutes. Four hours sitting at an airport wouldn’t be fun, I warned, but she wouldn’t listen.

"Okay," I muttered. If she was, oh, so late, why was she was sitting at the wooden table telling me so?   

"Have you seen my--" And there it was. Something else for me to do for her.

"Maisie! What are these?" my father's voice echoed from the top floor. I clicked off the stove, moving the pancakes onto the counter.  It had a feeling the two cases were related. I turned back over my shoulder, glancing at the pancakes. Well, there goes breakfast.