Chapter 7

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"WHAT???!!!" I let out a high-pitched scream, my breathing accelerating, my eyes bloodshot. There was no way... no way...

"Dex WILL be staying with you at your house for the six months that both of you are going to be singing together." Dex's evil-in my opinion-manager glared at me. Then her expression changed from a scowl to a smile. "I have no idea why you wouldn't want to be with Dex in the same house as you for SIX full months." She said dreamily.

"It's improper!" I protested, still defiant, although my heart shook at that prospect.

"It will be just like having a brother." His manager shrugged.

"No it won't!" I whined.

"Just deal with it," the manager turned away, obviously through with me. Well, I wasn't done with her.

"Look, Polly-"

"Penny," she corrected.

"There is no way I'm going to allow Dex to stay in my house when there's a perfectly good hotel a few blocks away..."

"Ahh, but it's not YOUR house." Penny grinned, obviously knowing something I didn't.

"Yes it is! I-"

"It's your mother's house, and she signed this paper." Penny waved a thick document at me. "Stating that Dex could stay at your house for the six months."

"MOTHER!!!!!"

I sat, my head leaning back against the back of our cushy sofa, waiting for Dex's arrival. The fireplace, steamy and warm, coughed up heat, which tickled my toes delightfully. The carpet, stained with juice, soda, and who-knows-what-else, seemed to smile up at me, familiarity oozing between us, the old and cracked walls, with a plethora of stick figures decorating it, just as much so. My breath resembled cigarette smoke, my upper body not nearly as warm as my feet. The furniture, comfy but unstylish, suited this grandmotherly type room, with a wooden rocking chair and table that was more suited to be out west than here near Hoover, Alabama.

I wonder what Dex will do when he sees my home.

Will he want to change it? Make over the whole house, even, replacing the ugly furniture and disastrously stained carpet?

Would he... laugh?

I shook those thoughts aside, and squinted out the huge window that overlook Lake Penn, the sun trying desperately to block my view. The cloud, huge and heavy with rain, floated over the clear blue waters, birds quickly landing in haste to escape the coming storm. Reeds thrived near the lake, hosting probably thousands of little bugs, the wind brushing past them gently. A peaceful duck and it's crew swam near our house, quacks flying through the air, reaching my ears, even, through the thin glass. They wobbled through our humble garden, a paradise of apples, grapes, pears, and oranges, obviously looking for a snack. I made no move to try and shoo them away, rather, watched them "window shop" as they surveyed the rows of delectable fruit.

Our house stood about a few miles away from Freland Jr. High School, an average public school you would see anywhere, and a small, family-owned, grocery store about the size of our puny house. If we wanted to, we could drive a little farther on to Hoover itself and eat at a fast food restaurant, which we didn't do very often. 

How I loved my home. I always take a daily swim in the invigorating-usually ice cold-lake water, shower, check the garden, and always had time to fix those nice, homey biscuits I was so famous for before school. Sadie, on the other hand, always woke up about fifteen minutes before it was time to leave, scrambling to eat her biscuit and pull on her shoes at the same time. We often shared outfits, having the exact same size, although I felt that they looked better on Sadie, which made it a lot easier on Sadie when she was rushing to pick out clothes.

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