1.4
1002 Words
Amy:
"Mom, I can't find my keys," I shouted as I ran around the living room looking for my car keys.
"I think your dad took them on accident, hun," she said rushing down the stairs with her nurse cardigan in her hand. Guess who followed behind her?
"You can use my car. I'm not going to school today," Marty tossed her keys at me. They hit the tip of my middle finger and I stumbled to catch them. She grinned at me when I glared at her.
"What? Why not? Can I stay too?" I asked looking at mom she turned to look at Marty.
"She's not staying in the house, Amy. She has some things she needs to check in with regarding her parent's company," my mom shook her head before glaring at Marty.
"I can come right?" I asked looking at my cousin. She looked me over before looking back at my mom.
"I don't mind," she agreed.
"You- okay but I want to be the one to tell her,"
"If it slips that's my bad," Marty smirked. "But yeah I can take her with me. I'll let Cameron know we'll need a couple of extra guards,"
"If something happens to her..."
"What are you going to do Maggie, ground me? Take away my phone?" she challenged with a smirk.
The way they talk to one another always makes my head spin. For some reason, I can't question it. I can't even put it into a coherent thought. I want to know why but my mouth doesn't let me ask out loud. Something is wrong with me.
"Please, be careful," my mom looked away before Marty did. Marty smiled in triumph.
"I am always brought back in one piece, aren't I?" Marty asked.
"Yes, you are but you have the training and knowledge of what you are. You were born for this she has no idea,"
"She was born for it too, she just doesn't know it yet," Marty looked at me. Her eyes hold sympathy in them. Something I'm not used to. Shouldn't I feel sorry for her? She's the one that lost her family. Not me.
This is usually when I shout what the f**k is going on at the top of my lungs but all I can do was look at both of them. They're acting like this is a conversation about what kind of cereal we're going to bring home from the store later.
I never stopped to look at Marty until now. She is beautiful. Her posture is perfect. Not a single hair out of place. Her thick legs were crammed into tight black slacks matched with a nice fitted white half sleeve with a black vest over it. The vest makes her breasts look amazing. She never wears makeup, her hair is braided or pulled into a high ponytail at all times. She has really nice side flipped bangs. I love the color of her dark brown hair. In the sun, it looks like there are a bunch of different shades of brown in it.
"Alright, I'm off to work. Please be home before dinner," Marty nodded as mom kissed the top of my head and walked out. A flash of sadness crossed my mom's eyes when she glanced back at me. Marty turned to walk up the stairs.
"Amy, I'm going to have to ask you to change into something of mine. You have to look presentable is that okay with you?" she called back to me.
"I probably won't look as good as you do in something like that," I admitted. She smiled at me. It's the first time I have seen her smile sincerely like that. It's nice. Scary, but nice.
"That's stupid," she laughed out loud. She took out a hanger with a clothing protector out from the closet. She unzipped it in the center revealing an outfit like hers only this one is gray. "You are beautiful. You may not see it or acknowledge the fact that you are one of the prettiest girls in your school, but I can see it. Let me ask you a question. Why you don't notice the guys here?"
"I notice them," I shrugged taking the vest from her bed. She rolled her eyes. I've wondered myself. I've wondered if it's because I might be into chicks.
"I'll tell you a secret," she sat down at the end of the bed looking down at her hands with a sad expression on her face. "It's because none of them are who you are meant to be with. I know the other day I went too far by slamming you into the locker, Amy. I promise not to do something like that to you again. It's just that no one has ever talked to me in that tone. I grew up being told that I have to be respected. My parents told me sometimes I have to make them, but I realize now that scaring someone into respecting me isn't the way to do it,"
"I shouldn't have talked to you like that though. You've been through a lot. The truth is, I'm kind of jealous of you," I admitted. She smiled.
"You shouldn't be. It's who you are and I respect that you were able to do it even when you were told not to. You should change. Cameron is downstairs waiting for us," I nodded as she stepped out leaving me to change in her room.
I noticed that the only thing different in this room is the small picture frame on the nightstand next to the bed. Everything is exactly the same as mom and I had set up two days before she had come in. Everything is organized and untouched as we had left it. It kind of hurts me to see this because I know she hasn't moved a single thing. She hasn't moved anything because she doesn't plan to stay and I don't like that for some reason.
- Writer
