The feisty, the cocky, and the vain (Harry Styles)

Chapter 18.

“Caroline? What are you doing here?” the women I referred to as mother asked me. She had her hand around the edge of the door pressing it to the side of her body blocking my view into the house.

I knew it.

“Who’s here?” I ask in a strangely calm voice. I’m about to explode but I have enough self control to keep it in…for now…

My own mother doesn’t even notice how my posture is rigid, my mouth is in a tight line, and my cold glare is set on her. She is totally oblivious to everything about me. That’s why when my dad lived with us I liked him better. He was the real person that raised me. I was self teaching myself everything from 7 on until now.

“What? Nothing, no one. Why?” she asks in a slightly panicked voice.

“Because I was hoping to come in and hang out with you.” I say like it’s obvious.

“Why would you want to do that?” she asks. See, she and I aren’t the close ones. She is almost like a stranger to me. She treats me like it too sometimes.

“Because I haven’t seen you in awhile.” I say stepping forward a bit. I put my hand on the door and push slightly but my mom puts her foot in back of it to stop it from opening at all.

“Can you come back tomorrow?” she asks hopefully. Her blond hair doesn’t match with my brown hair. Her brown eyes don’t match with my green eyes. We look nothing alike at all. I am practically my dad in some ways like this.

“Um no I won’t come back tomorrow…I have to work and I’m already here so I should just stay because it took me over an hour to get here.

Mom stands on her tippy toes and looks around outside to see if I’m alone. Her eyes fall on Harry’s car.

“Whose car is that?” she asks nodding to the Audi R8.

“My friends. He’s letting me borrow it for the day.” I say. “Stop avoiding the situation. Can I come in my own house?!” I exclaim frustrated with her. I can’t blow up with her just yet.

“Okay fine just give me a minute to clean up-” she starts shutting the door in my face but I stop her by shoving the door open. I see something that makes me want to kill her right then and there.

There’s a man sitting on the couch with candles all around him with food on the coffee table. His back is to me as he moves are the utensils on the table.

Oh shit.

No…this was not happening.

“You don’t need to clean up unless you intend on including this dirt bag with the trash!” I yell at her.

The man’s head snaps around and his eyes widen. He jumps up to his full height his blond hair bouncing a bit.

“Hey! Watch your language missy!” my mother scolds shutting the door behind her. She comes over and stands by the dirt bag’s side.