Twenty Hours Earlier
The click of the keys under my fingers created a comforting rhythm as I stared mindlessly at my computer screen and pecked out the words to yet another essay. I glanced wearily at the long to-do list of assignments on my wall calendar and silently wished to die. The words on the computer screen before me barely made sense as my eyes glazed over from exhaustion and my mind wandered. I picked up my mug of hot chocolate and took a sip as I looked around the room before settling my gaze on the man that was tucked into a blanket on the couch and sleeping peacefully.
He laid stretched out in my sheets like an innocent boy with a stubbled face. His calm demeanor was a sharp contrast to the drunken man my mom had brought home the night before. I'd called her crazy, but she insisted that his entourage was taking advantage of him and he needed a moment to recuperate. He'd been totally wasted, but something about his stuttered words of gratitude as my mom undressed and tuck him into the covers made him seem a lot less like a spoiled, rich, brat.
I ran my fingers through my heap of frizzy curls as I looked away from the man and back at my computer. I skimmed over my essay and tweaked a few sentences before typing out the rest of my opinion on gender roles within society. As I wrote my final statements, I felt my heart twinge as I debated whether my words were truly my own or if they were the sentiments that had been hammered into me by life experiences.
Although my only hero was my mother, who worked endless hours cleaning rich people's houses, she'd made it quite clear to me that if I ever wanted to truly be something I needed a man by my side because no woman would ever be taken seriously on her own merits. I didn't particularly agree with that statement. In fact, I could argue that women were perfectly capable of doing anything a man can do, plus they had the bonus of giving birth. All of the men in my life had either bailed on me or worried me more often than they provided support. Nevertheless, I finished writing an essay that I knew wouldn't hit the wrong button for my biased sociology professor who had a knack for giving As to students who either slept with him or stroked his ego. I saved my work just as my older sister entered the house with her son in tow.
"At it already, bookworm?" Gina asked as she adjusted her trench coat and pulled off her heels.
"Shh," I hushed as I nodded my head towards the couch and whispered. "But yeah, it's due today."
She lifted an eyebrow as she glanced at the couch, "Is that—"
"Yes," I cut her off before she could finish. "But keep your voice down and don't say anything to anyone about it. I doubt Mom wants any of the neighbors to know."
"No one comes all the way out here anyway," Gina bit her lip, "Damn, he's gorgeous in person."
"That's a bad word, mommy!" Aiden gasped as he looked at Gina with wide eyes.
I chuckled as I scooped him up, "Come over here, cutie," I turned my attention back to Gina as Aiden settled in my lap. "He's wasted and mom's letting him crash here until she goes into work so he can sleep it off."
"Oh, well will you be okay watching Aiden while I shower really quick?"
I nodded, "I'll be fine, don't worry about it."
Gina glanced back at the couch, "Alright, I'll be back."
"Lia?" Aiden tugged at my arm as I closed down my laptop. "I'm hungry."
"You didn't eat at your dad's?" I asked as I put my laptop in its sleeve.
He shook his head, "No, mommy cooked when she came to pick me up, but daddy didn't like it and he knocked the table over again."
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Perfect (Jordan Knight/NKOTB fanfic, Liadan #1)
Fanfic(Completed, Watty's 2018 Longlist) Jordan Knight and Lia Andrews are from two different worlds. He's an embattled pop star from the beloved boyband, New Kids on the Block. She's a no-nonsense pre-law student from a struggling working class family. H...