Definitely Not Average - Chapter 20

This chapter is dedicated to Rebby and Cathy, because they always leave me such brilliant and heart-warming comments! So thanks you guys, this chapter is for you. =)
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I was sitting on my bed in my room, doing my art homework - I had to draw a house for some reason - when I heard someone softly padding in what seemed the direction of my room. I froze. Who could it be? It definitely couldn’t be my mum since she spent her days and nights in bed, and no one else lived in the house. What if it was a burglar? Oh, no! But we didn’t have anything valuable in our house! Just what I needed. An angry burglar.

I cautiously got up off my bed, making sure not to make a sound, and braced myself near the door, my heart thudding wildly in my chest.

Then the door opened. I screamed. ‘Ahhhhhh! – Mum?’ I blinked in surprise, and rubbed my eyes just to check if I was dreaming.

She smiled a small smile, with tendrils of her dull blonde hair creeping onto her forehead. ‘Hey, sweetie,’ she said in her quiet, raspy voice. She was wearing her dark blue silk dressing gown, and her arms were curled protectively around her torso. ‘How are you?’

I looked at her weirdly. She was asking how I was? She hadn’t done that in, what, four years? Was something wrong with her? Did she have something to tell me?

‘I’m fine,’ I said guardedly. I tried to discreetly survey her. She looked no different from usual, though to someone else she probably might look a fright. ‘Uh…is…is something wrong?’

She gave another tired smile, and smoothed back a few strands of her hair. ‘Everything’s fine. I just…I just came to ask you what you were doing.’

I tried to stop the shock from sneaking onto my face. She came to see what I was doing? ‘I…I was just doing my art homework.’ I gestured to the drawing of my demented house that lay on my bed.

She sat down on my bed and picked up my drawing. ‘This is good.’

I just looked at her. My drawing was most definitely not good. She caught the look I was giving her and laughed - laughed?!?!? - nervously. ‘It is.’ She insisted.

She motioned for me to come and sit next to her, and I did so, hesitantly. I was overwhelmed by the smell of her. I always loved the smell of my mother, the slight lavender tint, with that smoky powder scent. I could breathe it in forever.

She picked up the Artist pencil that lay next to my drawing and started to make adjustments to my ‘house’. ‘Look here, see?’ she said softly, and started to erase the top of the house, then started to edit the bottom. ‘You’ve got to always start at the bottom of the drawing. The foundation,’ she said, and made a hard line right at the bottom, then some lighter ones at the sides, ‘Is the most important thing. Without it, everything just…falls apart.’ She ended in a whisper.

I didn’t know why, but I had the chilling suspicion that she wasn’t just talking about my drawing. ‘O-Okay,’ I said shakily, ‘Thankyou,’

She looked at me for a moment, and in her eyes I saw what she used to be, the way she used to throw back her head and laugh, and kiss me twice on my cheek before I went to school. My heart lurched. But that was what had been. The frail, sad-looking woman that sat in front of me was now – was the present. I knew the past would stay the past.

‘I - I just came to tell you something.’ She said.

I had to stop my mouth form curving into a bitter smile. Of course she didn’t just walk all the way into my room to see how I was doing. I should have known better.

‘I…’ she started, pushing her hair back again. She did that when she was nervous. ‘I’ve got a job.

I gawped. What? ‘What?!’

She chuckled nervously. ‘Yes. I…I’ve been phoning around for a while now-‘ she had? ‘-and I’ve earned myself a job as a receptionist.’

I blinked again. My mother getting a job was one thing, but her working as a receptionist was something completely different. Sure, five, six years ago I would have been able to imagine her sitting behind a desk, looking all prim and proper in a clean cut skirt and blouse, answering phones in a well-spoken tone, but now? I would have thought I was dreaming had it now been for the utter vividness of things.

‘A receptionist?’ I spluttered, momentarily forgetting to be surprised that I was actually having a conversation with my mother.

She nodded. ‘Yes. I’ll be working as a receptionist at the Utén Rouse Hotel.’ The Utén Rouse hotel was just a couple of blocks away, and it was known for its extremely expensive price – but it was rumoured to be well lavished and posh, so it sort of figured.

I was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that my mother - my mother who had spent the last four years of her life wallowing in her bed, snapping at anybody who got close enough to her to see that she was not Okay – would actually be doing something…something normal.

‘Oh.’ I said. ‘Okay. When do you start?’ I wasn’t completely comfortable with asking my mother questions; it was something that I had learned not to do over the years.

‘Next week Monday,’ I nodded. Money hadn’t really been a problem over the years, even though my mother and me didn’t have a job. We were on welfare, and we even had extra money left over because it wasn’t spent on anything but the mortgage and food. My dad had paid money into my mum’s account for all of my needs, but she knew I would never touch it.

She got up to leave, and before she reached the door, she turned back, her expression pained. ‘Grace?’ She said.

I glanced up. ‘Yes?’

She swallowed. ‘You know…I…I never meant to turn out like this.’

I looked down at my duvet, tracing the different patterns of coloured dots that were imprinted on it. So colourful, so happy looking. Just the surface. It was always about the surface.

‘But you did.’ I said quietly. 'And that makes all the difference.'

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The next day at school passed in an almost blur. I walked to my classes, I did all the work, and I didn’t really talk to anybody except T.J.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked me, in our last lesson, chemistry.

I glanced distractedly at him, my being focused on putting one solid drop of methane hydrochloride-oxide into the small tube of Glecane-oxide. Something was wrong with me, that being my concern over my mother. I really wasn’t sure if she was ready to get back out there. Who knows what could happen? ‘Nothing.’

He pursed his lips, and wheedled, ‘Grace, come on. Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll buy you an ice-cream.’

I had to laugh at his kind thoughts. I knew that if T.J thought something was bothering me that he would never give up until he got it out of me. ‘Fine. But only strawberry. I hate chocolate.’ I wrinkled my nose.

He laughed. ‘Okay, fine.’

We continued working in silence again, then-

‘That’s it!’ T.J burst out, and I looked at him, confused. ‘What’s the matter?’

Many people were staring at us, no doubt wanting to get the latest update on the school’s latest gossip.

‘Nothing,’ I said, even though I was lying through my teeth.

‘Grace,’ he said, his voice pure warning.

I stayed defiant, even turned my head away to add the rest of the mixture in. Then I felt two hands grab me and I squealed.

‘If you don’t ell me what’s wrong,’ a voice purred in my ear. ‘I will tickle you into insanity.’ The two key words were so oxymoronic that I started giggling, and many people turned around to look at us, then gawped at our ‘intimate’ position.

‘Nothing’s wrong.’ I said, his hands still on my waist and my back against his stomach.

He growled a playful growl before moving his fingers. I wriggled against him, squeaking and trying to push his hands way. ‘No fair!’ I exclaimed between bursts of laughter. ‘You know my ribcage is a ticklish spot!’

His hands continued to slide and dig into my skin without mercy, and I was gasping for air, twisting against him to be free of his grasp. ‘Stop!’

He bent his mouth to my ear. ‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ I shivered when his lips moved against earlobe, and my eyes widened when I felt him nibbling on it.

‘Nothing,’ I breathed, my hands entwining with his, even though they were still holding my waist.

He said nothing that tie, but he moved his lips to my neck, and I gasped when he started to kiss and gently bite the skin there. Oh, T.J…

I whimpered when he unburied his face from my neck. ‘Don’t stop,’

He chuckled, the sound rumbling against his chest, and whispered just loud enough for me to hear, ‘People are staring.’

I froze, and slowly turned around away from him to see everyone – yes, everyone, not the majority, but everyone was staring at us with wide eyes and a mouth to match.

I blushed a deep scarlet and turned to face T.J, mock-glaring up at him .’Well, thank you for humiliating me, Mr. Becker.’

His pouty, kissable lips curved up into a sensual smile that made my toes curl and my stomach clench. ‘Your welcome, Miss. Tulden,’ he murmured. ‘But can I advise you not to love me so much?’

I gawped, and my breath came out in one whoosh. How did he know that?

‘Uh…Grace?’ T.J waved a hand in front of my face, and I realized that I had zoned out. I blinked and felt another blush creep onto my cheeks. ‘I was just joking.’

I blinked again and laughed nervously. ‘Yeah,’ I said lightly. ‘Just joking.’ I turned away from him and said under my breath, ‘But you have no idea how close to the truth it is.’