"This is what she had become."
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Cleopatra Banks' last week in the small town of New Chelsea is nothing like she would have imagined it, but nothing could have prepared her for the stinging betrayal she's faced with and suddenly the prospect of...
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It is a truth universally acknowledged –by me at least— that blueberry cheesecake ice cream and chocolate are the cures for any emotional ailment.
This is the only thought running through my sleep evading mind as I spoon a huge portion of ice cream with a chocolate bar and shove the whole combination messily into my mouth, after which I release a huge unceremonious burp.
It's not like I'm running away from my problems or anything, in fact, I ran into them head first and sassily spoke my mind at them without a care for the repercussions so if anything, I totally deserve to reward myself with heaps of chocolate and ice cream.
Who knew standing up to an entire school of gossips followed by giving your crush's mother a full blown speech about how much you love her son would be this emotionally exhausting?
I turn my gaze back to the risqué hip hop music video playing on one of the music channels on TV and scoop some more ice cream using the remainder of the chocolate bar and try to banish all thoughts of Susan Rhodes from my mind. Pretentious little—
I stop myself. I can't do this anymore. Her husband's in hospital for crying out loud! And mom seemed to forget this little detail when she told me I needed to focus on mending bridges with Ethan and the more I look at things, the more I realize that nobody really cares about Susan Rhodes.
Maybe that's why she's like this.
She's somehow managed to overplay the victim card that it's become easy for people to not give a damn about her anymore and I swear the only reason mom went back to the hospital was for Mr. Rhodes' benefit only. That woman better fix her shit before she causes more damage.
The doorbell starts ringing incessantly and the sound causes me to jerk up in surprise, a semi-loud shriek escaping my mouth sending the ice cream tub flying into the air. It lands on the floor with a loud thud, creamy purple blotches messing up the carpet and some other furniture items in the near vicinity.
The incessant ringing continues and I can't help wonder what human being in their right mind would be visiting at such a late hour.
I contemplate leaving the door unanswered thinking that maybe they'll leave if I ignore them long enough.
I bend over the couch in an attempt to clean up my mess but this time around I hear the doorknob turning repeatedly and loud knocking on the hardwood French doors. Whoever it is must be one eager little beaver.
I sit upright and hold my breath, my heart threatening to lurch out of my chest at the hard sounds coming from the door. What if it's a burglar or serial killer?
"Cleopatra!" the feint voice somehow manages to pierce through the loud hip hop song and this time my heart does lurch out of my chest. What the hell is Ethan doing here at this time of the night? Shouldn't he be at the hospital with his parents?
