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chapter two. hello, pretty boy
"HONEY," avoice called as Georgine trudged through the door, "is that you?"
A sigh escaped passed the young girl's lips as she took in her mother's, Sandra Brodeur's, words. "No, Mom," she replied, annoyance laced within her tone, "it's a burglar. I'm here to rob the house."
She stood just in front of the doorway, the door lightly closing behind her as it clicked into the lock, proceeding to take off her boots that had been killing her feet all day. Placing her keys into the marble bowl situated on the table beside the door, she watched as her mother's head poked around the corner, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched her daughter cautiously. "Okay," she continued, bringing her right hand up to gesture for Georgine to follow her into the kitchen. The teen girl sighed once more, not really feeling up to having a conversation with her mother about what was annoying her, purely because she didn't know how to tell her.
It was safe to say that the events of her day at school was somewhat confusing, if not completely. She couldn't wrap her head around all these strange occurrences that were happening to her; Edward seemingly being able to reach into her mind as she spoke about his brother's cuteness, and then, her mood automatically changing within the click of someone's finger... and that look! That goddamn look from Jasper freaking Hale that screamed a thousand different emotions, none of which made sense to Georgine. It had reminded the girl of that day, Bella's first day, all those months back. The looks the Cullen family had given her were somehow similar to the one she had received earlier that day from Jasper. That look that told her he knew everything about her, and she didn't know whether that terrified her, or excited her.
Georgine reluctantly followed her mother into the kitchen, rounding the corner to find her clearing an empty plate away; she must've already had food. You could argue that Sandra Brodeur and her daughter weren't all that close as they seemed on the outside. Whilst the mother had only wanted the complete best for her only child, there were days where they struggled to get along as mother-and-daughter. Maybe it was because they were so similar, but sometimes there wasn't all that much to talk about, which then resulted in Sandra cooking for two, eating before her daughter returned home, and then plating the other half up for when she did. "So," Sandra started, throwing the kitchen towel onto the countertop before turning around, her arms leaning behind her, "what's the matter?"
Sandra Brodeur didn't know all that much about her own daughter (just the obvious stuff, really, things that other people noticed, too)━━but she was able to easily recognise when she wasn't feeling herself. It wasn't obvious to most, considering she seemed to wear the same expression fairly often, but a few things stuck out to the mother. She noticed that when her daughter was somewhat upset, her brows would furrow just that tiny bit more, her eyes would narrow as if she was feigning concentration, and her eyes would rake across anything around the room, flying past from one thing to next, uncomfortably not knowing where to look exactly.
