The One and Only [COMPLETED]

Chapter 9

When I was seven, I dressed up as a princess every Saturday, awaiting my Prince Charming. As most of us do, I fantasized of sharing my first kiss with the love of my life, after sharing a box of chocolate chip cookies-I was seven, give me a break-and a glass of lemonade. Of course, since then the story has changed drastically, but I still remember the high hopes I had for that kiss. My parents always gave me that look that you give little kids when you know that what they're saying makes absolutely no sense, but you smile at them anyway. And John, well, he always made fun of me, which is really no surprise. You'd be surprised at how much determination I had to make my first kiss perfect, even though I was only seven, and had really only seen kissing on Disney princess movies.

But I had no idea that my first-and second-kiss was going to be with Andrew Stokes. Years of daydreaming about the perfect guy for me... and I somehow end up with Andrew. All of it, gone to waste.

You can probably imagine my disappointment.

Today, Andrew has been staring at me all morning, his eyes a shade darker than they should be. I've tried hinting him in that it's creeping me out, to which he'd look away for a few seconds before staring at me again. When he did this, I did my best to ignore him and continue mixing the chocolate cake.

The rest of our family-aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmas, grandpas-were coming over today to visit us and to have a family barbeque. The six of us have been running around like crazy straightening up the house and preparing lots of food. All three of us girls are making the desserts and cleaning the house, while outside, the three boys are working with the grill and sides. It took Aunt Karen a while to convince Andrew to help, because, as he put it, "he shouldn't have to cook for people he's not related to," because he isn't "a cook". After a few killer glares from Aunt Karen, he finally gave in, therefore ending his staring at me.

Now, though, I evenly distributed the chocolate cake batter into a pan, sliding it in the oven. My mom and Aunt Karen ditched me to go outside and "check on the boys", which really meant that they were out there to laugh and drink nice, cold lemonade. Once I closed the oven door, I looked around on the counter in search of a timer. When I saw nothing but spices and a cutting board, I checked the cabinets and drawers, but I still couldn't find one.

Behind me, I heard the glass patio door slide open, and I figured that Aunt Karen had come in. Keeping my back to her, still in search of a timer, I asked, "Hey, Aunt Karen, where's your timer?"

"Check the last cabinet on the right, sweetie," she said.

"Thanks." I followed her directions and sure enough there was a small white kitchen timer. I pulled it down and set it for thirty minutes. When I turned to face her, I of course was expecting Aunt Karen, but instead I came face-to-face with my mother. "Oh," I swallowed, remembering the horrible way I had yelled at her yesterday. "Hey mom."

She gave me a weak smile and greeted me with, "Hello, sweetheart. How's the cake coming along?"

"Well, I've got the chocolate cake in the oven, and I iced the strawberry shortcake and put it in the fridge."

"Sounds good," my mom just stood there as a moment of silence followed. It was really long and really awkward. I was standing there, rocking on my heels and looking around the kitchen for something to say. Suddenly, my mom caught me by surprise by speaking first. "Hailey, I'm sorry for not believing you. I should've known that your period just had you a little grumpy. I should've trusted you, one hundred percent."

I nearly gagged at the word "period" coming from my mother's mouth. Did she really have to say it so bluntly? I guess I was also gagging because I did not expect my mom to apologize to me. I should be the one apologizing to her. "No, mom, you did nothing wrong! I'm the one who should be apologizing for yelling at you like that. I just didn't realize what I was doing until the words were coming out, and it was too late to stop them. I feel like such a horrible person for yelling at you, when all along I should've told you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth more than anyone. You've been there for me through so much, the least I could do is tell you the truth--"