Bound To Fall In Love

Chapter 4

I love my mother but sometimes it's hard to be with her. My mother dated my father, a renowned lawyer. She would say he was a nice man, loving but busy, he didn't have a lot of time for her and when she had me always cited his work as an excuse for them not to get married. It wasn't until I was 6 and he died in a car accident that we found out he had another family, correction we were his other family. He was cheating on his wife with my mum for years and neither of them knew. They met for the first time at his funeral and it was awful, my mum was heartbroken but his wife reached out to us later and to tell us that he left instructions for us in his will, well instructions for me, once I turn 18 I will have access to my trust fund but he didn't leave anything for my mother, not a single dime. She took it all in stride, for a struggling artist it wasn't easy raising me alone without support but she did her best, they let us keep the house, a nice place in the suburbs that he bought for us, but after that we were all alone. To be honest I barely remember my father, he wasn't a constant in my life so I can't say I grieved him like I was supposed to, I'm sure if my mother had thought really hard about it she might have discovered what was really going on, but she was happy with him, too blinded by love to understand that the sporadic visits weren't his time off, that if he loved us he would've made more time for us, introduced us to his family, I've never met my grandparents, they didn't come to the funeral, and I doubt I ever will.

My mother is the most classic example of ditzy, with blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She looks angelic, I got my hair from her and most of my face but I got my hazel green eyes from my dad. She's always covered in paint and has her head in the clouds, someday I feel more like the mother in our relationship than the child. She just radiates so much childlike wonder that I can't help but want to protect her. With her floral skirts and abstract art my mother was my whole world, until Zander but that's another story. I love her but sometimes I resent her for her lack of care, like when she gets so into her art I cease to exist to her, I wish she loved me more than her art.

Saying goodbye to Zander in the morning was hard, it was for only a week but I had no idea what to do with myself without him. We didn't hug, we barely said a word, our affection only flowed freely when we're alone and in the company of our mothers, we remained cordial. After he left my mother went back to painting, saying she was on the brink of a masterpiece. I don't remember her being so into her art when I was younger but maybe the loss and betrayal of my father is what made her throw herself into it, her art would always return the love she gave to it.

Alone with my thoughts, I decided to study. If I have nothing better to do I can at least get ahead of my syllabus. The week went by slowly. I studied, I cooked, I cleaned, and I missed Zander. Wash, rise, repeat. I go back to school on Sunday and on the Friday before, my friend Gianna calls to tell me about a party this night. She's also a childhood friend and doesn't go to my school so I barely see her anymore. I agree to go because anything is better than drowning in this loneliness.

"Gigi!" I scream when she's in front of my house before hugging her. She laughs. "Where's Zander?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows, she believes we're secretly in love or something and she might be right. Ignoring the dull thump in my chest I say "he's gone back to school."

"Already?" "Yeah" I said rolling my eyes

"Your school is brutal, you guys resume before everyone else and close after everyone else, are you sure it's not a cult?" She narrows her eyes at me. She loves conspiracy theories.

"Or an evil organization raising you guys to be spies" I laugh

"It's perfectly normal" I shove her shoulder playfully.

"Whatever you say, I'll miss eye candy though" she said referring to Zander.

"Ugh you're the worst, let's go." We climb into her car. She promised me it was a small house party and when we get there I realize she doesn't understand the meaning of small. You can hear the music from a block away and there are unconscious people littered in front of the house and it's barely 10 o'clock. Stepping in I'm hit with a wave of heat from all the bodies gyrating around. I suddenly feel overdressed with ripped boyfriend jeans and a black turtleneck crop top. Gigi looks sultry, her dark locks in silky waves, a dark red dress hugging her curves and heavy eye shadow coating her eyelids, I should've known once I saw her that this wasn't a simple party.

"You lied to me" I screech in her ears

"I need a wingman and you're the only one I trust" she gives me a sheepish look and I forgive her instantly because I could never stay mad at the people I love. I spend the rest of the night watching her flirt with the guy who threw the party, one jock in her school named Chris and thinking I wish Zander were here, I would be having so much more fun if Zander were here. At some point I imagine him coming in through the door and dragging me across the makeshift dance floor, grabbing my hips and dancing with me. I want that so badly I can already feel it, the heat of his hands all over my body. I have to chase off the guys that come around knowing they would never approach me if he was here. In bed when I get home, I replay the scene in my mind, his hands all over me and I touch myself pretending they were his hands and not mine.