Grey Skies

Chapter 8

I am so sorry for taking forever with this chapter! For some reason, it was so difficult to get it out and I'm still not very happy with it but you guys deserve an update! Thank you for the patience and I hope to update sooner! I'm really sorry again! Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Eight

Sundays are always great. These past few weeks, they've been even greater because they were my day off from Davis. Not just his gruesome training, but my day off from him completely, as well. He gives the team Saturday and Sunday off, and gives me Sunday off, something about Sunday's were his days off.

Unfortunately for me, my Mom has managed to ruin this Sunday. She woke me at eight in the morning(step one of ruining my Sunday) and then told me we were going shopping like I had promised(and bam, Sunday ruined.)

Now I'm knee deep in shirts and jeans and dresses and skirts, none of which are particularly appealing or comfortable but I don't have the heart to tell my mother that she has the taste of my grandmother in regards to shopping for me. When it's shopping for herself, she somehow develops a sense of style that is actually impressive, if not better than my own.

"How's that one look? Come out and let me see!"

I pull at the striped dress, with the colors orange, purple, and green all over, and open the door. I pull at the collar of the dress, feeling like it's choking me to death, like God is punishing me for even trying something so hideous on.

"That's beautiful!" My Mom says admiring the uncomfortable fabric that hangs off of me in unflattering ways.

"It itches."

"The price for beauty honey," she says, and I roll my eyes as if to say the price of beauty? Did you really just say that to me?

"I vote no," I say and head back to the fitting room, and ignore her sigh as I do.

The rest of the day goes the same. Crappy clothes and a grumpy me who is tired of repeatedly taking my clothes off just to put them back on. After a while, my Mom finally realizes that this whole experiment is going nowhere, or actually, it's going downhill, a steep hill. She calls it a day, and then suggests we go eat Chinese at the food court, which makes this Sunday a little less crappy.

"Can we share one? I can't finish it all," I say and she nods as she goes toward one of the counters and I go find seats.

As I wait, I watch people walk by, some slower than others, some happier than others, and some parents more miserable than others(usually the ones with the kids full of shopping bags.) When my Mom gets back, I lick my lips at the rice, noodles, and Sesame chicken in front of me. Mall chinese food is better than any restaurant's.

"So, you seem happier," my Mom remarks between bites.

I twirl my fork in the noodles and shrug my shoulders, "I guess you can say that."

She nods, and there's a brief awkward silence between the two of us, because she's hesitant to ask me whatever is on her mind, and I'm reluctant to force it out. She breaks the period of silence by asking, "You're running an awful lot more these past few weeks. Should you be doing that?"

I realize that she's handing me the perfect oppurtunity to come clean about my "running" and Davis, but I refuse to bring her into something that still has the possibility to come crashing down. Besides, my mother was never really fond of the idea of me playing Soccer, and my injury only fueled her reluctance. I decide to just say, "Yeah, I packed on some pounds, just trying to get my Summer bod." I reach down to grab at my stomach and smile.

"Chinese food is one way to do that."

"Chinese food is the exception to the rule."

She laughs and I smile. Today wasn't as bad as I pictured it to be. The outfits, well, they were horrible, but other than that it wasn't entirely awful. My Mom was easy going and actually funny, and it was refreshing to be around her like this. Like we both didn't have our own priorities or problems. "I had fun today," I say as we walk out of the mall, side by side.