Hello everyone

I hope you liked my last chapter. I wasn't so sure about it, but I'm a perfectionist sometimes- that's probably why I can be so slow to update!

Anyway, this chapter is quite uneventful, but I felt that I had to add something in between Fang's first day and his second. Don't worry though, I'm trying to add two chapters today

I love you all,

Rose

Xx

After school when I let myself in, I found that no one was home, my mother indubitably at work. I threw my bag down onto the couch and raided the cupboard to see if there was anything to eat.

From the corner of my eye I noticed the recently rigged up answering machine was flashing. A message. Vacantly, I went and pressed the play button only to hear my father's rough voice project from the machine, begging me to call him. I guess that it was only to be expected.

I didn't know if I would though, I mean, I still hadn't forgiven him for the whole break-up thing. Nor had I let my mother off the hook, but at least my father had a home full of comforts and familiar people and warm, California weather. My mother was stuck in this tiny flat with me being the only person she knew. But that had been her decision, I remembered angrily. Refusing to feel sympathy for either side I yanked out the phone cord, then shoved the issue to the back of my mind.

As a distraction, I turned on the TV, mulling over today's events in my mind. School-wise, things were all right. I mean, I met a really nice group of people and all the teachers, even Mrs. McKaylon, were okay. I learnt stuff and I kind of saw a sort of future in Ohio- something that I hadn't expected out of any place but California. I think it had something to do with Iggy and his friends.

Despite how satisfied I was, I thought that the day had lacked something. Something that I couldn't identify. It lacked...foundation? No, that came out wrong. It was like I had had something all built up and nearly finished and then someone had kicked it down and I had to spend ages looking for all the pieces. Just when I thought I was onto them all, I found that some were missing.

I didn't know what this all had to do with beginning. Maybe foundations did have something to do with it. Maybe today the foundations were nearly finished and my mother was right- it would be a beginning.

I was still not convinced.

Just as I was about to think up a counter-argument for this thought, I was interrupted by the sound of a key in the door. A second later, my mother appeared, flustered and bringing in the scent of Thai cookery. Her face was red and beaming and she was carrying multiple bags of shopping, as well as some take away containers.

"Hi Darling! You must be starving. I bought food." She gestured to the containers and I nodded, my anger from before not yet gone. "Come now, Fang. You know I'm dying to hear about your day! How was school?"

"Meh." I replied, not really meaning it. Truthfully, I just wanted to make her doubtful.

"Did you make any new friends?" she persisted. I shrugged, feeling disloyal now. "Were the teachers nice?" I gave no reply at all. Her face fell slightly and then lightened back up. "Well, there's Thai for dinner- get some cutlery would you darling?" Impassively I walked into the kitchenette to dig out the knives and forks.

When I ambled coolly back into the lounge/dining room I found my mother with her head in her hands massaging her temples and shaking slightly, as if she were crying. Shocked, I walked quickly back into the kitchenette and made a big deal of rustling through the cutlery draw. It was the best I could do because an evil bit of me wanted her to feel remorse for the move and the split up. I search through the draw for as long as I thought would be believable, before going back into the lounge/dining room, knives and forks at hand.

Her eyes were still red but the grin was back and the way she said "Thanks honey" was friendly and warm.

Dinner was unusually quiet that night. My mother was chewing her food slowly and by the time I was finished she wasn't even half done. When I announced that I was off to bed the smile was still there, travelling up her face, through the dimples on her cheeks, around the crinkles near her eyes. But not reaching them.

Her eyes stayed as cold and dead as ice and as soon as I turned I felt her expression go flat. As I was going down the hallway, I heard a weak, tired "Goodnight." And I couldn't help feeling a little bad.