Fated (Sequel to Timeless)

Chapter 2

When my nose finally stopped bleeding, I pulled the tissue away, seeing a smear of red and green blood.

Okay. That wasn't normal.

"Woah, wicked Christmas blood, man!" Logan said from the back seat.

I gave him a look. "What the heck, dude."

He shrugged. "Hey, it's not my fault your nose started spewing the holidays."

Sofia rolled her eyes as she turned onto the road that June and I lived on. "Yeah, well, that for sure isn't normal."

"Has it ever done that before?" June asked from her seat beside Logan.

I shook my head in confused frustration. "No??"

I popped the visor down and examined my face in the mirror. I looked awful. I turned to my three friends, my brow furrowed worriedly.

"Do you guys think I can convince my mom it's special effects makeup?"

Logan laughed, June sighed, and Sofia scoffed. "Yeah, good luck with that one."

I groaned and flipped the visor back up. How was I going to worm my way out of this one?

"June, do you want me to drop you off at your house, first?" Sofia asked her.

June nodded in response, brushing some of her red, shoulder-length hair out of her face.

Sofia pulled into the long, gravel driveway that led up to her ancient, two-story house. It had been around for a while. The front porch light was on.

"Hey, Ean?" I heard Logan say.

"Yeah?"

"Isn't that your mom's bike?"

I looked up, and, sure enough, spotted my mother's Harley sitting to the side of the porch. I swallowed.

"Crap."

A couple of seconds later, June's mom, Logan's mom, and my mom all three emerged out onto the front porch through the front door. None of them looked all too happy. My mom crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side, her (H/L), (H/C), hair bouncing as she did so. I sank deeper into my seat.

No, my mom wasn't large by any means... she had a staggering height of around 5'1".... but what she lacked in stature she more than made up for in explosive personality.

Oh, great. Jameson, her boyfriend, came out of June's house to stand beside her, wrapping an arm around my mother's waist. I frowned. (Also ps I imagine if this was a movie, he would be played by Ryan Reynolds because that's how I imagine him looking.)

Jameson and I didn't exactly get along. Kept trying to tell me that theater wasn't a manly enough career for me to pursue. The man also kept trying to get me to ski, like he did. No offense, but I didn't exactly feel like strapping a pair of sticks to my feet and hurling myself down an icy cliff to my certain doom. Just wasn't all that appealing to me.

Mom did her best to be mediator between the two of us, but even she got pissed at our bickering at times.

So seeing Jameson standing there, staring at Sofia's car with a smug, "ha, you're busted" expression didn't give me any warm fuzzier about this guy.

Sofia finally parked the car and waved to us all.

"Good luck," she told us through her open window before driving off into the night.

Logan, June, and I all exchanged uneasy glances.

"Ean Lawrence (Y/L/N)!"

I winced as I heard my mother yell my name from the porch. I turned around and slowly made my way over to the house, Logan and June trailing behind me.

"Hey, Mom."

She put her hands on her hips. "Don't 'hey, Mom,' me! Oh my gosh, what happened to your face??"

"Um... it's special effects makeup...?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew it was no good.

"Oh no, no, no, don't you dare give me that shiz! No, you're gonna tell me exactly what happened!"

I sighed.

"Meghan threw the after-party at her dad's country club in secret. I didn't really want to go, you know. I-"

"Still went," my mom cut me off, frowning. I looked down at the ground.

"Um... for the record, Ms. (Y/N)," Logan piped up, "Ean did try to convince us to leave. I mean, as soon as he saw the booze he-"

"THERE WAS ALCOHOL??" Logan's mom, Rita McBride, gasped incredulously, staring intensely at the two of us.

Logan started to panic.

"Mom, we didn't touch any of it, I swear!"

"Riley! Would you please get your tail out here and talk some sense into your son??" Rita called back into the open door of the house.

"Why is he always my son when he does something dumb?" he replied, stepping out onto the porch next to his wife.

She cut her eyes over at him. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

The blonde man sighed. "No."

My mother turned back to me. "Did you get into a fight?" I noticed that underneath her tough, angry exterior, she was actually worried about me.

"Um, not exactly. This one dude came up and just punched me, broke my nose. Pretty sure he was drunk."

"Well, you wanna take a wild guess as to how long we waited for you guys at Denny's after the performance?" my mother asked me dangerously. Questions like this were always traps, so it was always best to let her talk it out, herself. "An hour. An hour, Ean! And then we rode around town for another 45! We thought that you guys had just decided to go home, so we came back here, with no sign of any of you."

"I'm sorry, Mom. Really."

She sighed, trying to calm down. "Look, we'll talk about this later."

"See, Sport? This is why theater isn't the best thing to be a part of. You could get hurt," Jameson piped up.

"Right, and skiing is the safest profession in the entire world," I growled back dryly. Jameson opened his mouth to fire something stupid back, no doubt, but Mom stepped in between us.

"That's enough, both of you. Jameson, why don't you go ahead and head on home? I'll meet you there in just a minute."

He nodded, giving my mother a kiss on the head before starting to walk down the road that led to our house.

"Okay, so why do you have green paint all over you?" my mother asked, poking at a puddle of green on my shirt.

"Um, mom?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not paint."

She recoiled and glanced up at me, confused. "Then what is it?"

"That's some of my blood."

Her eyes widened and she quickly looked over at Lydia, June's mom. Most of the adults seemed to exchange worried glances.

"Um, Mom? What's going on? Why is everyone staring like that?" I asked her, a little weirded out by the way they all were acting.

"Oh, nothing, sweetie. That's just a little odd, is all."

"Odd? A little odd?? Mom, this is freaking bizarre!"

"Yeah, yeah. Um, come on, let's go home," my mom said evasively, hopping on her Harley and motioning for me to get on. I obeyed.

And as we drove home through our quiet neighborhood in Winter River, Connecticut, I couldn't help but feel like my mother was hiding something from me.

Staring up at the ceiling fan that night, I also couldn't help but wonder....

What was wrong with me?