**This is my first story ever to be publicly submitted, I normally keep all my work to myself. So I hope you enjoy. All characters are 18 and older. This story will be submitted in parts as it will take time for things to build up. Sorry in advanced, I didn't want to rush the story line to much. Enjoy!**
"Lizzie!"... My mother yelled from downstairs. She had that tone, the tone that would make a dog's tail go between its legs and cower in a corner knowing it did something wrong, and that's one thing I do well.. is something wrong.
I rolled myself out of bed and scuffed out of my room to the top of the stairs with my hair wild from sleep, hanging in my face.
"Yes, Mother dear?" I called down, rolling my eyes.
"Get down here, now..." Yeah, the tone.. I slowly yet surly made my way down the stairs, cursing under my breath as my favorite Spyro bed shirt snagged on a nail in the wall. My fault really for lazily sliding the right side of my body on the wall as I descended the 26 step staircase.. Yeah, 26 I spent a lot of time counting as I was that child who would be made to start from step one when I would stomp up when I was sent to my room. Maybe that's why I was a thin child...
Once I reached the bottom, I turned the corner and seen my mother standing with her hands on her hip looking down at the kitchen table, shaking her head. With a sigh, she turned her head when she heard my scuffling slippers on the hardwood living room floor and glared a glare of all glares and with a swoop of her hand she swiped from the table a piece of paper and held it up high, pointing at it with her other hand. "Can you please explain this garbage?" I tilted my head and squinted my eyes as I was still trying to wake up. It was 11am on a Saturday and I was normally still sleeping. I moved closer to get a better look at what she was holding, then it sunk in and my eyes went wide. Blinking a few times, I refused to look at her cause I already knew. My last report card. I thought I hid it in my desk drawer but from the looks of the laundry basket on the counter and my jeans from Friday say other wise.
"Elizabeth Rose O'Shay, did you honestly think I wouldn't find this? You failed near everything again!" she yelled, shaking the paper.
"Well... not everything, see? I passed art class" I reached out and pointed at the only A on it, finally looking at her. Her expression was unreadable, and I knew I was going to be grounded for another summer.
"Are you trying to be funny? Because this is far from it, this is damn near pathetic. Passing an elective class will not get you into collage! Or anywhere in life, god dammit! You can kiss your road trip goodbye this summer. You're grounded until further notice. Oh, and you will go to summer school." She slammed the report card on the table before grabbing the laundry basket and shoving it against my chest. I winced, grabbing it as it pinched my boobs because I wasn't wearing a bra.
"Now, get your ass in the basement and start the laundry and make sure you don't shrink your brother's work uniforms or your fathers."
"Stepfather, Dave isn't my father." I instantly snapped back. My parents divorced about 3 years ago and my dad sort of shut all communication off with me and my older brother Ryan to live happily with his other family on the other side of town. My mom married Dave last summer. He had been a family friend for a few years prior. He was a detective for the Local PD.
"Lizzie, Don't make it worse for yourself. Now Go! And it better get done before I get home." She grabbed her purse and stormed out of the house, shutting the back kitchen door hard that it made the china vibrate.
"Busted!" Ryan sang as he entered the kitchen. I shot him a glare and took off to the basement.
Dropping the laundry basket in front of the washer, I started putting the clothes in, filled it with soap and closed the lid. Sighing, I pressed start, then turned to lean against it with my arms crossed. I know I can't be mad at anyone but myself, but the rage building inside me is getting to a point where I just want to scream. Eventually, I pushed off the washer and made my way upstairs to the kitchen while the wash was going. Ryan looked up at me when I opened the door and smirked, so I flipped him the middle finger before heading up to my room. Ryan stood leaning against the counter sipping a Dr Pepper.
"So hostile... and still busted!"
Ryan and I had a close sibling relationship. Typical arguing, bantering, nit picking. But we were close in a way too. He is older than me by 2 years. He went off to college after high school and came back home a few months ago when he and his girlfriend Rena, of 5 years, split up. She kicked him out of their apartment near their collage. I just finished, well hopefully finished my last year of high school. Letting my grade slip this low was really stupid on my end and I hated I didn't try harder. School was just not my thing, like it was for Ryan.
I ignored him and went up to my room to change. Knowing it was just Ryan and me home, I didn't feel the need to close my door all the way. Dad was at work and Mom was off somewhere to me, as far away from me as she could, and I knew Ryan was in the kitchen. I pulled off my shirt and looked in the mirror that hung in my closet, turning from side to side. I'm not skinny but I'm not fat, more like thick. D cup breasts, thick thighs and hips, not a fat tummy but not flat, stood 5'7, Emerald green eyes, semi full lips, pale unblemished skin and long black hair to my waist. I was comfortable and and felt decently attractive.
Clasping on a bra, I pulled out a black hugging t-shirt with The Crow on it as it is one of my all-time favorite movies and pulled up faded gray shorts the exposed just a hint of cheeks before sliding my feet into my favorite black flip-flops. Happy with my attire, I went back downstairs and into the kitchen to grab something to drink before I checked the washer. I put it on a quick wash so I didn't have to wait the full thirty minutes. Ryan was now sitting at the table looking at his gaming magazine, completely unaware I was back until I sighed louder than I needed to.
"You still all crabby? Or are you able to use your words now," He teased.
"I don't want to talk about that shit right now, 'cause I know it will be the big dinner topic for tonight." I grabbed a sprite and leaned against the door that lead down to the basement, flicking the tab on the sprite can. Ryan leaned over and poked my knee to have me look over at him.
"I get it okay? Just try not to egg them on. You know, mom, she will fish for more reactions out of you and you always fall into the trap. Just yes her till you 're blue in the face and she will eventually back off. Trust me, I mastered it early in life." He smiled and stood up, opening his arms to me. I pushed off the door and pressed myself into his embrace, resting my head just under his chin. Ryan was 6" 3, athletic build with light brown hair that fell just over his Ice like blue eyes. "I'll try to get her to calm down." He gave one good squeeze before he pulled away and went back to his reading.
"Thanks Ry," was all I said before I turned for the door and headed down to check the laundry.
The washer beeped as I stepped off the last stair and I was careful to take out Dave's and brother's uniforms, hanging them neatly on the dry rack before tossing everything else into the dryer and set it for 30 minutes.
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Later on that night, my mother eventually came back home around the same time as Dave. Ryan was in his room gaming with his friends from college and I was lying on my bed scrolling my phone as I let my friends know I would not be with them on the road trip. Dayna messaged me first.
WTH Lizzie!! I thought you hid that!
I thought I did too, but it was in my jeans. If you forgot, I was drunk....
Yeah, no kidding... well... I hope your mom doesn't kill you too bad.
