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So, what do I tell you? Where to begin? Well... I am American. I love to write. I'm currently working on a super secret manuscript titled The Blessed Ones. You can find an excerpt below.
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I promise to add more stories in the future, so look out for updates!
Lynn’s mother whispered into the receiving end of the phone, darting her eyes around the room like she was expecting an ambush. Lynn caught words like safe and spread out, as well as the key word, Community.
Her mother held her free hand to her other ear, as if her silent husband and daughter were being so loud that she couldn’t hear whoever was on the other end of the line. Her lips were pursed, and in this light Lynn could see the deep circles that had permanently placed themselves under her mother’s eyes. She looked older, worried, unlike the relatively happy woman she knew as Mom. But it was in that moment that Lynn saw herself most in her mother. Though she never furrowed her brow like that -- wrinkles were too big of a concern -- her mother’s long, dark hair had only a handful of gray streaks, and therefore still resembled Lynn’s own youthful locks. Her nose was small, perhaps too small, just like Lynn’s, and her eyebrows were so light, they were nearly non-existent. Her olive skin required the same concealer as Lynn’s, though she never used it. But Lynn knew she had her father’s eyes; big and hazel brown, though sometimes they were green, in contrast to her mother’s dark, thinner eyes, which she got from Lynn’s Thai grandfather, whom she’d never met.
Finally, after a minute of nodding, her mother said, “Alright, thank you, Simon.” Lynn’s father’s ears perked up at the name. “We will get back to you soon. Goodbye.”
Virginia Rivera hung up the phone and turned to her daughter, who was perched like a bird on the edge of her seat. Her hands were sweaty, yet clammy, and she found herself curling her fingers up into her palms, as if this would provide some sort of protection. Lynn figured she would need it, too. Judging by the look on her mother’s face, she now had two things to worry about.
“Lynn, could you give your father and me a moment to talk?” Virginia asked in her everything is not okay but I am going to pretend like it is voice.
Lynn didn’t care, though. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and her teenage heart skipped a beat. She stood, nodded, and managed to make it up the stairs and into her bedroom before ripping her phone out. She had found out the hard way how slowly friday nights pass by when one is constantly waiting for someone to text them.
The buzz was a message from Devon. Lynn opened it and read:
Devon (5:47 pm): Hey Lynn
Her text was followed by a long pause. She could hear her parents’ discussion faintly through her bedroom floor. With every minute that passed, she got more nervous.
The worst thing that could happen was impending, but the worst worst thing that could happen could not be happening, she thought. It just couldn’t. She refused to let herself believe it, even though she knew it was inevitable.
“Lynn, you can come back now,” her father called up the stairs. Lynn joined her parents in the living room and sat in her old spot, wringing her hands like an inmate on death row.
“Your father and I have talked,” her mother began.. “And we have decided what we are going to do about this... situation.” Lynn tried not to roll her eyes at the way her mother had said the word situation. She knew it meant Devon.
“He’s not a situation,” Lynn told her. “He’s a person. With feelings.”
Lynn’s phone shivered against her leg. She slipped it out of her pocket and glanced down.
Devon (6:16 pm): We can’t talk anymore. I’m… sort of with Avery now.
“We are moving back to the Community. Pack your things. We leave Monday.”
Wham! Just like that, everything that could go wrong did, all at once. Lynn sucked in a breath, feeling as if she suddenly had no lungs. Her parents waited patiently, expecting her to cry out in protest. Lynn knew that Devon was waiting too, holding his phone anxiously, wondering which reaction will be in her reply, if she replied at all.
She did not give them the satisfaction of knowing her next move. She left the room without uttering a word. She deleted Devon’s number by pressing three keys. She took out her light pink suitcase and began throwing in clothes.
Maybe this is for the best, she thought, optimistic. She wouldn’t have to face Devon at school and he would have no problem forgetting her. She needed a fresh start anyway, she decided. Somewhere, her life had taken a wrong turn.
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