Status: pre-pro
Until There Was You
Brittany POV
Feeling a vibration against my leg, I reach for my phone. Mom, again. This time I can’t ignore her. Leaning towards Michelle and Susan, I yell, “I can’t ignore my mom again. I think I need to go.” Reaching into my bag, I pull out the card I wrote for the boys. “Can one of you give this to them?”, I scream again. “There are gifts in those, so it’s super important.”
Susan takes the card from my hand. “No problem! Sorry you need to leave early. I’ll see if I can get a voicemail for you from them.”, she offers. Nodding my head at her, I pick up the phone and quickly weave my way out of the crowd.
This better be good. Today was supposed to be the first time I met Boys Like Girls. After waiting nearly seven years, I had been hoping to meet the people who had shaped me as a person. But apparently not. Oh. “Sorry. What did you say mom?”, I ask.
“Dreadful darling. I feel absolutely dreadful. I need you home right now. Everything’s wrong. So terribly wrong.”, she sighs dramatically into the phone. Rolling my eyes, I wonder what possible could have “turned her life upside down” this time.
“I’m driving home now mom. I’ll be back in ten.”, I resign. You’d think that with her being nearly fifty, an eighteen year old girl would be able to catch a break, but no. Sometimes, I felt like the mom taking care of a child. This is why I chose to go to California for college. Stanford University in fact, on a nearly full scholarship. Even if she “so direly needed me,” there’s nothing I could do about it with her in Boston.
Parking outside the monstrosity of our house (courtesy of husband number two), I throw my keys to the valet. The fact that we even have one to begin with makes me want to puke. Running into the house, I shout, “Mom! Where are you?!”
“Oh darling. You’re finally home.”, my mother says as she sweeps down the stairs. “I just got absolutely terrible news. Brad has a business trip in Europe. But my passport has expired, and he says there isn’t enough time to help me renew mine, and so he won’t take me.” She pauses and heaves another dramatic sigh. “Europe! There will be champagne and beautiful women. He doesn’t want to take me so that he has an opportunity to find another woman! What shall I do?!”
Dropping my bag, I restrain myself from screaming. THIS was the “dreadful problem” that I dropped meeting Boys Like Girls for. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else very soon mom.”, I say wearily.
“But I thought he was the one! I thought we were going to get married and live together for the rest of our lives.”, she says close to tears.
“That would be your fifth wedding mom.”, I remind her.
“But I truly thought he was the one. But obviously not. He’s off frolicking in London or Paris or wherever and he refuses to take me!”, she declares.
“Ok mom.”, I say dejectedly. I’m eighteen. Sometimes, I wonder why I still respond to her every whim. Running to my room, I throw myself onto my bed. Holding a pillow up to my face, I let out a scream.
“Is everything alright?”, I hear a faint voice call from outside my room.
Opening my door, I smile at Louisa, who has taken care of me since I was a child. “I’m fine Louisa. Just, you know, letting out my eternally building frustration on a few pillows.”, I say sarcastically.
“Well, you left this downstairs.”, says Louisa, giving me my bag. “And I believe I heard your phone ringing just a moment ago.”
Cheering up at the thought, I smile at her. Maybe it was Susan with a voicemail from one of the boys! But looking at the number, it was unknown. Sighing, I plop back down onto the bed, throwing the phone next to me. Now what do I do? As I was about to get up to forage for some food in the kitchen, my phone dings. Voicemail? Curious, I click on it, wondering who it can be.
“Hi Brittany. This is Morgan. Uhh, Morgan Dorr from Boys Like Girls. It’s a shame you had to leave early. Your friends Susan and Michelle seemed quite nice. They gave me this number. I thought it’d be difficult to hear me if we used her phone in the middle of the crowd. Well, I hope you’re able to make it out to another show. Good night. Hope to see you soon.”
Stunned, I stare at the number. Did Morgan Dorr just call me?
Susan takes the card from my hand. “No problem! Sorry you need to leave early. I’ll see if I can get a voicemail for you from them.”, she offers. Nodding my head at her, I pick up the phone and quickly weave my way out of the crowd.
This better be good. Today was supposed to be the first time I met Boys Like Girls. After waiting nearly seven years, I had been hoping to meet the people who had shaped me as a person. But apparently not. Oh. “Sorry. What did you say mom?”, I ask.
“Dreadful darling. I feel absolutely dreadful. I need you home right now. Everything’s wrong. So terribly wrong.”, she sighs dramatically into the phone. Rolling my eyes, I wonder what possible could have “turned her life upside down” this time.
“I’m driving home now mom. I’ll be back in ten.”, I resign. You’d think that with her being nearly fifty, an eighteen year old girl would be able to catch a break, but no. Sometimes, I felt like the mom taking care of a child. This is why I chose to go to California for college. Stanford University in fact, on a nearly full scholarship. Even if she “so direly needed me,” there’s nothing I could do about it with her in Boston.
Parking outside the monstrosity of our house (courtesy of husband number two), I throw my keys to the valet. The fact that we even have one to begin with makes me want to puke. Running into the house, I shout, “Mom! Where are you?!”
“Oh darling. You’re finally home.”, my mother says as she sweeps down the stairs. “I just got absolutely terrible news. Brad has a business trip in Europe. But my passport has expired, and he says there isn’t enough time to help me renew mine, and so he won’t take me.” She pauses and heaves another dramatic sigh. “Europe! There will be champagne and beautiful women. He doesn’t want to take me so that he has an opportunity to find another woman! What shall I do?!”
Dropping my bag, I restrain myself from screaming. THIS was the “dreadful problem” that I dropped meeting Boys Like Girls for. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else very soon mom.”, I say wearily.
“But I thought he was the one! I thought we were going to get married and live together for the rest of our lives.”, she says close to tears.
“That would be your fifth wedding mom.”, I remind her.
“But I truly thought he was the one. But obviously not. He’s off frolicking in London or Paris or wherever and he refuses to take me!”, she declares.
“Ok mom.”, I say dejectedly. I’m eighteen. Sometimes, I wonder why I still respond to her every whim. Running to my room, I throw myself onto my bed. Holding a pillow up to my face, I let out a scream.
“Is everything alright?”, I hear a faint voice call from outside my room.
Opening my door, I smile at Louisa, who has taken care of me since I was a child. “I’m fine Louisa. Just, you know, letting out my eternally building frustration on a few pillows.”, I say sarcastically.
“Well, you left this downstairs.”, says Louisa, giving me my bag. “And I believe I heard your phone ringing just a moment ago.”
Cheering up at the thought, I smile at her. Maybe it was Susan with a voicemail from one of the boys! But looking at the number, it was unknown. Sighing, I plop back down onto the bed, throwing the phone next to me. Now what do I do? As I was about to get up to forage for some food in the kitchen, my phone dings. Voicemail? Curious, I click on it, wondering who it can be.
“Hi Brittany. This is Morgan. Uhh, Morgan Dorr from Boys Like Girls. It’s a shame you had to leave early. Your friends Susan and Michelle seemed quite nice. They gave me this number. I thought it’d be difficult to hear me if we used her phone in the middle of the crowd. Well, I hope you’re able to make it out to another show. Good night. Hope to see you soon.”
Stunned, I stare at the number. Did Morgan Dorr just call me?
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I'll just leave this up here. and when I have more of it written, I'll start posting regularly. Some feedback would be GREAT :D