L E O N I E

Jess and Amy didn't hang around for a lot longer after we'd eaten and reminisced on a few more humorous memories. The more that we talked about the night that we'd had, the more that surfaced. Such as the fact that I'd done several shots out of Martha's - the red headed roommates - cleavage. Or the fact that Jess decided that she could now twirk and demanded the whole rooms attention so that she could shake it.

Embarrassing to be honest.

She thought so too from the way that she sunk into the sofa and covered her face with her hands, willing the truth to evade her. It wasn't that she couldn't dance. It was just more to do with the fact that she was drunk. Therefore, all of her movements were lagging and not quite as fluid as they might have been if she'd been in control of her limbs.

After the girls left, I remained on the couch with the food that they left behind, a comforter and Netflix. The weather had taken a turn and it seemed that my hangover had been blessed with a mild storm. Rain pelted the window outside and I watched it more than I watched the drama unfolding between Stiles and Scott over that evil but oh so gorgeous Theo Raeken.

The rain bothered me unless I didn't have to leave the apartment. And then it was welcomed. I didn't feel as guilty for squandering inside like a hermit if the weather turned to shit. Which it didn't do all that often. That didn't stop me from squandering inside like a hermit. But it did allow me to do it guilt free.

Not even the state of my bedroom persuaded me to do something productive after I showered and changed into a pair of sweats and an 'I heart Daytona' t shirt that I'd bought from the broadwalk gift store this summer. There were clothes spread from asshole to breakfast. The bed was a mess, the drawers were open. But the need to clean further than the bathroom evaded me. As long as I had glistening shower walls and a toilet bowl clean enough to eat off, I was satisfied.

It was around six in the evening when Mom came home with her travel case wheeling along behind her. Her hair was pulled into a half up, half down style and her pencil skirt and blazer were pressed and sophisticated. It was hard to believe that she'd just been on a flight for the last ten hours. I had the entire house, the comfort of a sofa, room to stretch and I still looked like an absolute wreck.

She wheeled her bag in behind her and leaned it against the wall beside the corridor as she said hello. I remained curled up on the couch, hidden beneath the comforter so that she couldn't see the bandaged hand that would raise some questions on her part. It was going to be hard to hide it for long. But I needed some time to come up with a decent excuse. My brain just wasn't participating this evening.

Mom wondered in and gave me an achingly wide grin as she sat down on the coffee table in front of me. "How was your weekend?"

I shrugged with indifference. "I did a ton of meth. Met a biker gang. Fell in love with the leader. Married him. Set a rivals production warehouse on fire, destroying millions worth in cocaine. Have a hit out. Gang leader husband - cûnt killer his name was - was shot. Now I'm in hiding. How about yours?"

Her expression was blank as she stared at me. "Have you ever considered doing a writing major in college? You have a vivid imagination."

"You're right. I should turn my real life weekend experiences into novels. That's perfect," I yawned, a wide one that would have given her a nice view of the tonsils that I no longer had thanks to their removal when I was seven. Now that was a good time. I've never eaten so much ice cream. Ever. "Sorry. Just a bit tired. Haven't slept because of all the meth. Now, tell me Mom, how was London? Please tell me that you got some?"

She shook her head with blatant disapproval. "London was wonderful. The trial isn't over but my input seemed to make a difference. I even managed to do some sightseeing. The weather wasn't wonderful but it was a nice break from all of the heat that we seem to have here."

"For real?" I stared at her with boredom. "I was hanging out for some jucier details. British men are so hot. Hello, Ed Westwick, Tom Hiddleston, Henry Cavill and don't even get me started on Charlie Hunnam."

"Celebrities," she said with a slow and condescending tone as though I was a toddler that she was having a hard time communicating with. "Not real people Leonie."

"Fuck, of course," I slapped my forehead with the hand that I hadn't damaged on Harlin's face. "Celebrities aren't human beings. They're aliens sent to earth to give us false standards. Not in fact regular people with alarmingly good looks. Dad was handsome. Must have been summoned back to his real world when he 'died' eighteen years ago."

She sighed with exasperation and stood up as if she was going to leave the room. But then she stopped and sat down again. "I need to talk about something. That happened in London. It concerns you."

"Knew it," I smiled. "Who is she?"

"Leonie," she snapped. "Let me speak without interrupting me with senseless nonsense every two seconds."

"Sheesh," I recoiled and waved a hand in a rolling motion. "Go on then."

She inhaled a deep breath. The blue in her gaze seemed a hint darker than usual. We shared that feature. We had the exact same eyes but that was the only physical attribute that we had in common. Perhaps our petite height too. But Dad wasn't particularly tall for a man. So she tells me. Sometimes I wished that I could have met him. Even just once.

"The firm in London, offered me a job," she said, more like mumbled as if she was confessing that she drew on the walls with permanent marker. "They were impressed with the performance and apparently they've had their eye on me for a while."

I said nothing. So she continued.

"It comes with a huge pay rise, dental and health, a company car. There's also a one bedroom apartment but we could probably get a little place of our ow-"

"No. No. There is no chance that I am moving to London," I shook my head in refusal. "I would rather chew off my left tit, than move to London."

Mom raised a brow with mild concern. "Why the left one?"

"Because it's my good one," I gave her a duh expression.

"They don't look the same?"

"I mean, for the most part. The left one just has a little more perk. It's subtle. But it's there. You don't have a favourite tit?"

She tilted her head and frowned with thought. "I don't know? I haven't thought about it. Maybe-" she raised her hand as if she was going to grab her chest but before she made contact she sighed with frustration and flailed her hands in dismissal. "We're getting off topic."

"There is no topic," I said, giving my attention to the television. "I'm not moving to London."

Her shoulders slumped, I could see her in my peripheral vision having a sulk. "Leonie-"

"Mother," I said, still refusing to meet her pleading expression. "You should totally go after what you want. It sounds like a great opportunity. I'm just not going."

"I can't leave you behind Leonie. You're still too young to live alone and not with everyth-"

"Excuse me," I interrupted with disbelief. "I am one hundred percent old enough to live alone. I'm almost eighteen."

"In three and a half weeks."

"Yep."

"Don't you refer to yourself as being eighteen now?" She said with confusion.

"Yeah. Because I almost am. It's easier than explaining that I'm almost eighteen but I'm not quite because my birthday is the 20th of September."

"Well yes. You almost are I suppose."

"Yes I am."

"Right," she nodded with a lost expression. "So what are we talking about?"

"I don't fûcking know. What are we talking about?"

"You can't live alone Leonie," she came back from her confusion and shrugged her shoulders, looking at me as though her hands were tied.

"Yes, I could Mom," I almost revealed my bandaged hand out of sheer frustration that would have caused me to throw my hands around. "Jade has a spare room now. I could live with her if I wanted to. Because I don't want to go and I won't. So you can either let me live here. In our apartment. Or I will go and live with Jade. Either way, I'm not moving to London and you can't make me."

She watched me with frustration. She didn't dislike Jade. But she wasn't a huge fan of Bray and the two were brother and sister so by default, she wasn't Jade's biggest fan. It also seemed to have something to do with Jade's dreaded hair, pierced face and designer hole attire. Mom was raised in a sheltered home within a sheltered town. It was hard to kick old habits sometimes. Which happened to be judging people based on alternative appearance. That was her Mother's fault. Her Mother was a snake and never knew how to bite her tongue.

"Come on Mom," I held her hand, resting it on top of the comforter. "I want you to go and accept this job. You can have the one bedroom apartment and I can live here. It'll be here for when you come and visit."

She didn't seem convinced. Her expression contorted into one that suggested she was having an internal crisis. Her desire was to follow her dream, climb the career ladder and snatch this incredible chance to further her experiences. But the other part of her was struggling with the guilt of leaving her daughter behind and giving me abandonment issues. Which was so not going to happen.

Mom and I were close. We spent time together and knew how to have a laugh. Well, I knew how to laugh and she knew how to watch me with concern while she questioned where I got my humour from. But the point was, we didn't live in each other's pockets. That just wasn't who we were. Her fears also happened to be with deeper rooted issues that were in the past and she need not concern herself over. 

"I would be leaving on Wednesday," she gnawed on her lip and scratched her shoulder. It was such a Mom thing to do. Whenever she became anxious, she ended up with a rash. "My official transfer wouldn't be for another two weeks. But we aren't done with the case. I just needed to come back and talk about this with you. I thought that we'd be going back together."

"Do you know me? Like, at all?"

Wednesday was soon. Super soon. Who the hell accepted a job offer and started within three days? Not that it mattered how soon she started, she could still go and I would still be fine. Besides, she would be getting a pay rise - as if she wasn't rolling in it as it was - but that meant that she could come and visit whenever she wanted. Frequent flyer miles were the real deal.

"I don't feel great about this," she pursed her lips and I was itching to warn her that she would end up with frown lines in her forehead if she kept on watching me like that. She was doing well for her age. It would be a shame to mar that gorgeous skin now. "I really, really don't."

"I know Mom," I nodded even though the sympathetic expression that I wore wasn't genuine in the slightest. She was being rather dramatic. I would miss her but it wasn't as if one of us was dying. "But I swear, this is going to be an ideal step up for your career. You can't miss it. And I'll be fine."

She nodded her head with an unconvincing smile. She ran her palms along the top of her thighs. "If there is even a hint of trouble, Leonie," she gave me a pointed look. "One whisper of misbehaviour, you're coming to London."

The next morning, I pulled open the glass doors on the bottom floor of the school after I had listened to Paula Axel - huge boobs, 5'9 with the most amazing brown skin that I have ever seen - drone on about an assignment beside the school steps. She was furious at how little time she was allotted to complete a diagram on the history of flour for food tech class. She spoke with a loud voice but a huge smile, even when she was harping on about the idiocy of our educational directors. I managed to avoid letting her get to in depth with her rant and beelined straight for the lockers before someone else could stop me and offload.

I came up short when I saw Bray encasing Jess against the lockers. My locker to be exact. He had one arm on the metal compartments behind him, the other wrapped around her neck as he violated her throat with his tongue. Well, it was a thrill to see that both of them were equally as entranced with one another. However, the PDA was a little bit revolting. It wasn't a bad thing though. It was a clear message that our quarterback was taken. Peers were watching as they passed, some looked, some didn't. Those who did stare had varied reactions. Some of the girls seemed devastated. Some of them seemed mad and some of them laughed and flipped their hair as if it wasn't something to be taken seriously.

My assessment of reactions didn't take long. By the time that I was close enough to actually hear their lips smacking together, I decided that enough was enough. "Jess, your Mom is here," I called out with a casual tone. More for my own amusement than out of actual frustration.

Her hands flew up and gave Bray's chest a solid shove, which sent him stumbling backwards into a group of freshmen that were passing with their enormous on brand backpacks and overdone hair. The myth that you needed to be sophisticated and adorned with overpriced accessories to fit in was a curse against the gullible. I'd been there once. Not a clue how to begin highschool because no one had shown me the ropes and Mom knew nothing about going to a private high school in Miami. 'No Mom, no. They do not take a horse and carriage to school.' That had been a joke of course, she wasn't that oblivious.

The one that took the brunt of Bray's tumble was a petite girl with a blonde braid crown and teeth too big for her mouth - she'd grow into them - but she showed them to the entire corridor when her chin hit her chest and her face glowed a scarlett red at the fact that Bray Wilder had just bumped into her. You could see the awe in her expression as she stared up at him and he spun around and apologised. "Shit, my bad girl," he winced and patted her on the head.

The three freshmen continued to blush but didn't respond. Instead, they powerwalked up the corridor, whispering and putting their heads together. It was hard to imagine viewing Bray as anything to become flustered over. I mean, yes, he did cause me to become a bit breathless in bed on more than one occasion. But still, he was just a tall, foul mouthed, shameless moron that could throw a ball across the field. He was just Bray.

"Leonie," Jess snapped as she stepped forward and slapped me across the arm. "Bitch."

"My Mom is moving to London on Wednesday," I said, ignoring her as I opened my locker and began shuffling through it for the textbooks that I would need for this half of the morning. My locker showed a little bit too much semblance to my bedroom. There were books stacked on their sides, some standing up, papers in between the books and a couple of pens that almost fell out. Considering it was the second week of school, it was a little concerning. "She was offered a job and she wanted me to go with her but I refused unless she could guarantee that I would end up underneath Theo James. Because hello, worth it. But she could not promise that I would - as the brits call it - shag a hot british actor and so I said, na Mom, I'm in Miami bitch and I am not leaving. So that's that."

When I turned around, Bray and Jess were standing side by side, watching with mild shock. Jess had an intense peak in interest. Her brows shot up and her mouth fell open but she managed to keep smiling. "This is fantastic."

"Anyone would believe that you don't like my Mom," I teased.

She shook her head and we started wandering towards homeroom. "No, I just mean, freedom. You are staying at home right? You're not going to live with your witch Gran in the middle of nowhere?"

"No," I winced and waved a dismissive hand. "No. I'm staying at home. Living alone. It'll be good. But I can't screw up. If I do, it's London. For real."

Bray scoffed and threw his arm around Jess's shoulder. She bit down on her lip and watched the ground. "You won't last. You can't help it. You're a hot mess."

"Do you mind," I gripped his thumb and pushed his arm off so that it wasn't wrapped around my best friend. "We're having a private conversation. Girl time. That sort of thing. Go and slap your teammates butts and hype each other up with some good old fashioned grunting."

"Someone sounds jealous," he leaned around Jess and gave me a poke in the side.

"Someone sounds delusional," I bit back.

He snorted. "I meant of me. I get to kiss Jess and you don't."

"You got me," I shrugged and linked an arm with Jess who was grinning like the cat who got the canary. Her cheeks were all pinched and red. Cutie. "This is my lesbian lover. Now shoo. See you in biology."

We sped up and he dropped back after he swiped a quick kiss on Jess's cheek. It was obvious from the way that she glanced back over her shoulder that she wasn't done canoodling with him but I refused to let her become one of those girls who forgot about their friends the minute that a penis was pointed in their direction.

We continued to talk about the fact that I was going to be living alone. Jess informed me that her mother could not find out that Mom had moved to London. She would never be allowed to sleep over again. Which of course, was something that I had considered and told Mom that she should keep it on the down low. The fun would be sucked right out of the situation if Jess couldn't come and keep me company.

Home room was full when we wandered in but Amy had saved us a seat each at the back. It was a miracle to see that she'd made it on time this morning. She was the epitome of late. Time management was an absolute weakness of hers so I figured that Jess and I had dordled a lot longer than I realised.

"Have you seen Harlin this morning?" Amy whispered as we took our seats on either side of her. Jess and I shook our heads so she threw her head back with silent laughter. "You didn't tell me that the fight was that bad. She looks awful. Her entire face is swollen. I'm surprised that she's here at all."

So was I to be honest. I didn't think that she would show after what had happened. I had to give her props for having guts. Amy's glee was concerning but not surprising. She had hated Harlin ever since Harlin confesses to wearing fur at New York fashion week when she was sixteen. The story sounded made up but Harlin was proud of her outfit and attendance, so she told us all about it.

When the student aide walked in with a little red slip that I recognised all too well, I shrunk in my seat and hoped that whatever the teacher was reading, wasn't for me. Of course, luck just wasn't on my side. "Leonie," she peered at me over her glasses. "The principal wants to see you in his office. Now please."