Sequel: Caught Under the Mistletoe ›
Status: Can't believe it's over! Stay in tune for the "Christmas (but it's not Christmas) Special" xD and the sequel! :D
Fake Girlfriend
Joy In My Life
The next day was just filled with a bustle of activity. Police came to my house, as well as the Lovettes who both got interviewed by the police. Mrs. Lovette was crying, and Mr. Lovette kept his arm around her most of the time. When they weren’t talking to the police, they came over to me, where I sat on my couch, mindlessly watching television, trying not to think of anything that was happening. Mrs. Lovette was too occupied by her tears to say anything, but Mr. Lovette placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Cole,” he said softly. I didn’t respond. “Cole, whatever happens, you got to be strong. Okay?” Still I didn’t turn to look at him. I would start to cry if I did. And so, he pulled me into a hug, which Mrs. Lovette joined. I saw the tears in his eyes, and I heard Mrs. Lovette’s sobs, and so I started to cry too. “You can be strong and still cry. Sometimes, it’s good to cry,” Mr. Lovette continued, before he, too, was overwhelmed by tears.
When the police asked them to come over again, some woman took me to my room and helped me pack the stuff I needed. She then walked me outside. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to the Lovettes. The lady drove me for what seemed like forever to a huge house in the middle of nowhere. My first foster home. One of many.
After so many years, faces began to blur together. Every new “family”, I began to realize as I got older, would just be a disappointment in the end. I would just leave in the end for a new home; they said they cared about me, but they would just let me leave. Not a single one of my “families” ever stuck with me. I forgot them, like I tried to forget everything else. However, it was hard to forget the past when that was all I had now.
Just when I learned to forgot and stopped crying at night, at the age of eleven, a man in a suit showed up at my of-the-moment foster parents’ house. He had news that shook me to the core. My mother, who I learned through much eavesdropping had given up all custody rights of me and had run into a few problems with drugs, wanted me back, and this man was here to take me to her.
I wasn’t sure how to feel. I spent the entire car ride trying to figure out what to think. I was so busy thinking, that I didn’t realize where we were. My old neighborhood. I couldn’t hold in my surprise. “This is…” I said aloud.
“You’re old home?” the man driving said. “Yes. Your mother got the house when your father committed suicide.”
“Oh,” was all I could think to say.
We pulled into the familiar driveway up to the familiar house, where a woman waited in the threshold of the door. Mom. Just seeing her made me happy, and all my bitter feelings of her left me. I jumped out of the car, even before it stopped moving and ran to hug her. She hugged back eagerly with a huge smile on her face.
“Oh Cole!” she squealed. “I missed you so much.”
“Mommy,” I sobbed.
She hugged me tightly until I stopped and let the man bring all my bags inside. Even though I was eleven now, I held onto my mother’s hand as we finally walked inside. Everything looked the same. But the first difference I noticed was a little girl on the living room floor, playing with blocks. I could guess that she wasn’t even one yet, and she was as adorable as any baby, but I immediately loathed her.
“Honey,” my mother said. “This is your baby sister, Joy.”
I didn’t want a sister. I just got my mother back, and I didn’t want to share.
Then, a man came into the room. Tall, well-built, blonde, and relatively friendly-looking man. He came up to me with a smile on his face, and said to me, “Now, you must be the Cole I’ve heard so much about.”
I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t very much like this guy, either. “Who are you?”
“Darling be nice,” my mom said. “This is your new dad.”
He smiled with an extended hand. “Lloyd is fine.”
I was mad. While I was going from foster home to foster home, wishing for my mother, she was here. She was here in my old home with her new family. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like Joy. I didn’t like Lloyd. I didn’t want a sister or a new father.
I didn’t shake Lloyd’s hand.
***
My mother acted like I had been living with her forever. She acted like she never left me. At first, I didn’t mind it, but it started to bug me more and more as the week went on. I had to share my old room with Joy, a baby who cried way too much. I learned in school that doing drugs, like I heard my mother had done, can do bad things to babies—make them have disorders and cry a lot, I guess. I figured that was what was wrong with baby Joy. And yet, when she would cry, Mother wouldn’t come and comfort her, so she’d just cry and cry.
One night, I couldn’t take any more of it. I got out of my bed and leaned over her crib. “Shut up,” I said.
She just kept crying.
“Quiet, I said.”
She got a little quieter, but not much. She kicked the blanked off her tiny body.
“Stop that,” I said. I put the blanket back on her, and suddenly she stopped, looking up at me.
She had really cute little blue eyes.
I brushed off the thought and went back to bed. Stupid baby.
***
One morning, while Mother, Joy, and I were having dinner (Lloyd was already at work) there was a knock at our door. I got up to open it, and to my surprise, there was Mrs. Lovette. She her grin was so wide, it looked like it hurt. I immediately hugged her.
I noticed immediately she had gotten even frailer than before. She seemed weaker—maybe it was just me being stronger. “Cole,” she said softly. “I missed you.”
I couldn’t help but cry. I missed her, too. I didn’t know her long before I left, but she was like a second mother to me.
My mother was confused but did not comment. I don’t think she knew that, in her absence, Mrs. Lovette was my replacement mother. Mrs. Lovette hand me something from her purse: a bag of chocolate chip cookies, still warm. “I brought these over for you. I have to go, but if you need anything, I’m right across the street. Alright?” That was the same thing she told me when we met. I nodded, and she smiled and left.
***
Lloyd went to work every morning and was never back till late at night—I barely even knew the guy because he was never around to talk to-- and Mother, who turned out to be nothing like the mother I dreamed of having, would step out for a half an hour or so every so often. I was old enough to realize she was going out to drink or get drugs or something, and then, when she would come home drunk or high or both, she would crash on the couch, and leave me fending for myself. And then there was the baby I despised.
While both of the so-called “parents” were out, she was playing with her favorite teddy bear on the couch, and I was sitting on the floor, watching t.v. I tried to ignore her, even though Mother had told me to watch after her. I managed to tune out her baby-talk rambles up until she threw her teddy bear at my head. She started to laugh.
I looked back at her, trying to be angry. But you can’t get angry at a little baby. Especially a laughing one as cute as Joy. I think it was then I realized that she wasn’t bad—she couldn’t be: she wasn’t even one yet. It wasn’t her fault the mother I wanted so badly wasn’t exactly the way I dreamed, or that she had a new family, or that she and Lloyd never seemed to give a crap about me. She was the most innocent one in the family. She could do no wrong. I gave her back her bear and she continued to giggle.
I smiled at her.
At least I know she would keep laughing. That was the one thing I could count on.
“Cole,” he said softly. I didn’t respond. “Cole, whatever happens, you got to be strong. Okay?” Still I didn’t turn to look at him. I would start to cry if I did. And so, he pulled me into a hug, which Mrs. Lovette joined. I saw the tears in his eyes, and I heard Mrs. Lovette’s sobs, and so I started to cry too. “You can be strong and still cry. Sometimes, it’s good to cry,” Mr. Lovette continued, before he, too, was overwhelmed by tears.
When the police asked them to come over again, some woman took me to my room and helped me pack the stuff I needed. She then walked me outside. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to the Lovettes. The lady drove me for what seemed like forever to a huge house in the middle of nowhere. My first foster home. One of many.
After so many years, faces began to blur together. Every new “family”, I began to realize as I got older, would just be a disappointment in the end. I would just leave in the end for a new home; they said they cared about me, but they would just let me leave. Not a single one of my “families” ever stuck with me. I forgot them, like I tried to forget everything else. However, it was hard to forget the past when that was all I had now.
Just when I learned to forgot and stopped crying at night, at the age of eleven, a man in a suit showed up at my of-the-moment foster parents’ house. He had news that shook me to the core. My mother, who I learned through much eavesdropping had given up all custody rights of me and had run into a few problems with drugs, wanted me back, and this man was here to take me to her.
I wasn’t sure how to feel. I spent the entire car ride trying to figure out what to think. I was so busy thinking, that I didn’t realize where we were. My old neighborhood. I couldn’t hold in my surprise. “This is…” I said aloud.
“You’re old home?” the man driving said. “Yes. Your mother got the house when your father committed suicide.”
“Oh,” was all I could think to say.
We pulled into the familiar driveway up to the familiar house, where a woman waited in the threshold of the door. Mom. Just seeing her made me happy, and all my bitter feelings of her left me. I jumped out of the car, even before it stopped moving and ran to hug her. She hugged back eagerly with a huge smile on her face.
“Oh Cole!” she squealed. “I missed you so much.”
“Mommy,” I sobbed.
She hugged me tightly until I stopped and let the man bring all my bags inside. Even though I was eleven now, I held onto my mother’s hand as we finally walked inside. Everything looked the same. But the first difference I noticed was a little girl on the living room floor, playing with blocks. I could guess that she wasn’t even one yet, and she was as adorable as any baby, but I immediately loathed her.
“Honey,” my mother said. “This is your baby sister, Joy.”
I didn’t want a sister. I just got my mother back, and I didn’t want to share.
Then, a man came into the room. Tall, well-built, blonde, and relatively friendly-looking man. He came up to me with a smile on his face, and said to me, “Now, you must be the Cole I’ve heard so much about.”
I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t very much like this guy, either. “Who are you?”
“Darling be nice,” my mom said. “This is your new dad.”
He smiled with an extended hand. “Lloyd is fine.”
I was mad. While I was going from foster home to foster home, wishing for my mother, she was here. She was here in my old home with her new family. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like Joy. I didn’t like Lloyd. I didn’t want a sister or a new father.
I didn’t shake Lloyd’s hand.
***
My mother acted like I had been living with her forever. She acted like she never left me. At first, I didn’t mind it, but it started to bug me more and more as the week went on. I had to share my old room with Joy, a baby who cried way too much. I learned in school that doing drugs, like I heard my mother had done, can do bad things to babies—make them have disorders and cry a lot, I guess. I figured that was what was wrong with baby Joy. And yet, when she would cry, Mother wouldn’t come and comfort her, so she’d just cry and cry.
One night, I couldn’t take any more of it. I got out of my bed and leaned over her crib. “Shut up,” I said.
She just kept crying.
“Quiet, I said.”
She got a little quieter, but not much. She kicked the blanked off her tiny body.
“Stop that,” I said. I put the blanket back on her, and suddenly she stopped, looking up at me.
She had really cute little blue eyes.
I brushed off the thought and went back to bed. Stupid baby.
***
One morning, while Mother, Joy, and I were having dinner (Lloyd was already at work) there was a knock at our door. I got up to open it, and to my surprise, there was Mrs. Lovette. She her grin was so wide, it looked like it hurt. I immediately hugged her.
I noticed immediately she had gotten even frailer than before. She seemed weaker—maybe it was just me being stronger. “Cole,” she said softly. “I missed you.”
I couldn’t help but cry. I missed her, too. I didn’t know her long before I left, but she was like a second mother to me.
My mother was confused but did not comment. I don’t think she knew that, in her absence, Mrs. Lovette was my replacement mother. Mrs. Lovette hand me something from her purse: a bag of chocolate chip cookies, still warm. “I brought these over for you. I have to go, but if you need anything, I’m right across the street. Alright?” That was the same thing she told me when we met. I nodded, and she smiled and left.
***
Lloyd went to work every morning and was never back till late at night—I barely even knew the guy because he was never around to talk to-- and Mother, who turned out to be nothing like the mother I dreamed of having, would step out for a half an hour or so every so often. I was old enough to realize she was going out to drink or get drugs or something, and then, when she would come home drunk or high or both, she would crash on the couch, and leave me fending for myself. And then there was the baby I despised.
While both of the so-called “parents” were out, she was playing with her favorite teddy bear on the couch, and I was sitting on the floor, watching t.v. I tried to ignore her, even though Mother had told me to watch after her. I managed to tune out her baby-talk rambles up until she threw her teddy bear at my head. She started to laugh.
I looked back at her, trying to be angry. But you can’t get angry at a little baby. Especially a laughing one as cute as Joy. I think it was then I realized that she wasn’t bad—she couldn’t be: she wasn’t even one yet. It wasn’t her fault the mother I wanted so badly wasn’t exactly the way I dreamed, or that she had a new family, or that she and Lloyd never seemed to give a crap about me. She was the most innocent one in the family. She could do no wrong. I gave her back her bear and she continued to giggle.
I smiled at her.
At least I know she would keep laughing. That was the one thing I could count on.
♠ ♠ ♠
I have successfully figured out how to balance studying and writing for the time being. My schedule is still super packed, but I should be able to update like I usually do for at least this weekend. hahaha.This chapter was sorta of slow for me, though. Just studied biology, so my brain is fried. Sorry :/
Anyways, I'm so happy right now! This story is coming close to 300 subscribers. Wow. I was blown away. I could like... cry right now! Thank you all so much!
<3