Girl On The Move

Chapter Ten

'Sometimes in your life there will be times when you get mad at your parents. Can everyone understand that? I'm pretty sure most teenagers do. I get mad at my mom every time we move, you all know that. I am pretty sure I rant and rave about it enough on top of all the other parenty things she does.

However, today was a different experience. Today I was pissed at my mom for a reason I had never been pissed at her for before; my father.'

"You know, you can clutch that head of yours all you like," I told my mother, smiling as I swept up the breakfast bowls, throwing them into the sink, "I know you're not hung-over!"

My mother's head slipped straight onto the kitchen table, her blonde hair covering her head. She was a good actress, I will give her that. But I knew that she was only pretending to be hung-over. She wasn't the sort of person who got drunk on the first date. And she most certainly wasn't hung-over when she came through the apartment door earlier that morning.

Of course, at that point I was too embarrassed that she had found me and Duncan on the sofa, we may have been awake but I was cuddled into his chest and his arms were wrapped around me.

"Whatever, Court," she moaned, getting to her feet. "I'm going back to bed."

"Didn't get much sleep last night, then?" I called after her.

"Not as much as you." She called back.

That was how mom and I worked for the most part. We just liked to annoy each other. We were closer than mother and daughter, we were friends. Growing up I never had too many friends. But I always had my mom to turn to after a rough day. Before Casey was born, we were all each other had to depend on. We were close.

"I'm going to go get the mail!" I shouted, shaking my head as I pulled out the hair tie. I looked like a mess in my pajamas, but mail was an important part of Saturday mornings. It meant we got the rent bill, but mom also got her paycheck. We got letters from grandma who couldn't use a phone, but we also got money for me and Casey to get some new things for ourselves too. It was sort of a win-win situation with Saturday mail.

"No, Courtney, wait!" My mother shouted after me just before I shut the door. "I'll get it, don't worry."

"You're hung-over," I replied, pointing towards her bedroom, "BED!"

"Cour-"

"No!" I told my mother a bit too sternly, "You're the one who said you were hung-over. Now, unless you were lying to me, which I would be disgusted if you were, you need to rest! Go back to bed and sleep for a few more hours. I can quite easily walk downstairs and get the mail myself."

My mother stared at me. Well, it was more of a 'why don't you ever listen to me' sort of glare, but I ignored it. She finally caved. Mom always caved after a while. She wasn't exactly good at the whole parenting thing.

"Fine..." She whispered at first, staring down at the floor before whipping her face to stare straight back at me again, "But you bring those letters straight back to me, alright?" I nodded, not really knowing what else to do. I had never seen mom quite that strict before. She never ordered me and Casey around like other mother's would have, she was kinder than that. She let us have our freedom. Mainly because she didn't quite know how to discipline us. The most she had ever done was send us to our rooms, but that was more of a when we performed in public when we were younger. Mom would never actually ground us for anything or take away our possessions.

I didn't see what she was fussing over when it came to the mail, but I wasn't going to defy her. She wanted to see the mail first, that was fine. It was actually the first time I had ever collected the mail on a weekend, I usually picked it up on my way home after school, but by the time I got up most Saturday mornings she had already collected it for herself. I never questioned it; my mother had always been an early riser.

She wasn't one to go out on Friday nights, either, which was why last night was sort of a shock. She preferred Saturday nights, so that way at least if she didn't like the date, she didn't have to go out with him again the night after. She always had the excuse of work and getting the two of us to school. That went out the window with Matt last night and I guess I could understand why.

I managed to walk all the way down to the apartment block lobby without running into anyone I knew. That was good. I wasn't in the mood for a long chat with any of my neighbors. But, naturally, Duncan had to be entering the building right then with the rest of his family.

"Morning," Duncan smiled, winking at me. Luckily he was ahead of the rest of his family, meaning they couldn't see. I may have died a whole new death if they had.

"Good morning," I smile politely before turning towards the cubby holes. There were a few letters under my apartment's name, so I pulled them all out and quickly skimmed through to make sure they were all under the right address. They were.

"Good night?" I heard Duncan purring in my ear, his hands finding their way to my waist. I blushed, but he couldn't see. His forehead was resting against my temple, the way it had done last night. I could still feel the tingles up my spine as he seemed to pull me closer and closer towards him.

I choked back my emotions, not wanting to get swept up in Duncan. I wasn't going to be staying in Manhattan for much longer. I knew I wouldn't be staying in Manhattan for more than a few months. It would only be worse for Duncan if we had a thing going between us at the time of my departure. Chances were, if I left, I was never going to see him again.

"Duncan-"

"Hey, that letter is addressed to you." He pointed down to the pile in my hand and, sure enough, there was a letter a little out of place from the rest with my name written in perfect handwriting; Courtney. And when I pulled it out, I realized it wasn't from someone who knew me well; Courtney Taylor. No one called me Courtney Taylor.

"I thought your name was Courtney Madison," Duncan told me, his brow creased.

"I-It's...Complicated..." My face fell as I spoke the last word. My mind had come to a complete halt. Deep down I knew who the letter was from. There was really only one person in the world who called me Courtney Taylor, everyone else called me Courtney Madison. And he was the last person I ever wanted to hear from.

Without speaking a word to Duncan, I ran straight up to the apartment. He chased me, but I was too fast for him. I was in a rush to sit down before I fainted. This was all too soon, all too sudden for me. Why was my father contacting me now? There was no reason for him to contact me at all. He had wanted nothing to do with me in thirteen years.

"Courtney!" Duncan panted, but I never stopped until I had run into the apartment. I left the door wide open and Duncan ran in after me, clutching his side and wheezing very heavily. I was too busy looking down at the envelope in my hand. I had already tossed the rest on the table as soon as I got in.

SLAM!

Duncan collapsed against the door, making it shut very loudly behind him.

"Courtney?" My mother called from the bedroom, "Court, is that you?" She came rushing out of her bedroom, looking slightly better than when I left. At least she was dressed now. "Duncan?" She looked at him first; collapsed on the floor he was probably more of a concern than I was. But this was all sub-conscious to me. I was too busy studying the writing. I had to make sure it was addressed to me, which it was. I lived in Manhattan. I lived in Oakland Apartments. I lived in apartment 12C. I was Courtney Taylor. This letter was definitely for me.

"Courtney-" She froze up, just like I had. She knew exactly what I was holding in my hand, only confirming my suspicions. "Courtney...Baby...Sweetheart...Honey...Courtney, please give me that letter."

I turned to face my mother, my face confused, "Why?" I asked, "It's addressed to me, it's my letter. Why should I give it to you?" I think I slightly confused my mother too. She knew I knew who it was from and she hadn't been expecting me to know. How should I have known? But there was just some part of me that did.

"Courtney..."

"Mom," I replied. "I-I want to read it."

"No. No you don't" My mother told me.

"Why not?" I asked. "Why wouldn't I want to read it? It's addressed to me, isn't it? Despite what you want everyone to believe, I'm Courtney Taylor. I want to know what this letter says..."

"Then why haven't you opened it already?"

I froze again. As much as it may have seemed sometimes, my mother wasn't an idiot. She knew that I was scared. I hadn't heard off my father since...I had never heard anything from my father. He got locked up when I was three and was yet to be released. I didn't even know what he had done. Maybe the letter would explain it to me, I didn't know.

"Courtney...Give me the letter, please, darling." Why was my mother acting this way? I know that she only wanted to protect me, but it was still my life. I wanted a father. I had always wanted a father; she knew I did, so why did she not want me to read the letter?

'And, if anyone doesn't know how my life runs by now; it only gets worse from there.'

"Courtney...You don't want to read that. It'll be just like the res-You don't want to read it."

"The rest?" I questioned, looking back to my mother now. "There are more?" My mother never replied, but I knew I was right. "You've been taking letters that are addressed to me and reading them?" My mother seemed lost for words. Even more so as I stood up. "How long has this been going on for? How many letters were there? WHY did you do it? Are you aware that it is against the law to open mail that isn't addressed to you?"

"C-Courtney-"

"NO!" I screamed, "I don't want any of the usual excuses! I want the truth!"

"Court-"

"NO!" I screamed again, my voice breaking. "I-I don't want to hear it...I-I don't want to hear it now." I wasn't sure if I was angry or sad, but I most definitely didn't want to be around her at that moment.

"Okay..." She held her hand in defense against me, "We'll talk about this when you've calmed down."

"YOU BET WE WILL!" I shouted after my mother as she disappeared into her bedroom once more.

'And now I don't know whether to trust my mother or not ever again.

I'm sorry...I'm not entirely sure why I am expressing this through the online where it isn't so private. Well, I guess I can trust all of you. It's not like I have ever met any of you (Minus Duncan).

Speaking of Duncan, he was okay in the end. After his breathing wasn't so fast and his pulse had returned to a normal pace, he was able to calm down and I was able to tell him everything.

And no, before anyone wishes to ask, I have not read the letter yet. I really am scared to open it. I don't know what my father has written. I'm not sure if I want to know what he's written. My life is just too fast paced at the moment.

Peace and Love, Girl On The Move.'

"COURTNEY!" Casey shouted from the kitchen, "DINNER!"

'Have you parents ever given you the silent treatment? My mother never has before. Not until now, at least. It's as if I'm the one who has done something wrong. But, if I remember from my day correctly, I am not the one who has hidden thousands upon thousands of letters from her daughter her entire life in a box labeled 'Sex Toys'. Yes. You can only imagine my reaction...'

I slammed down the lid on my laptop, not caring if the screen was smashed or not. If my mother cared enough, she could easily buy me a new one. Or at least that was the state of mind I was in. My mother had ruined my life for me. My whole life I had been secretly dreaming of meeting my father one day, no matter how much I tried to tell everyone that I didn't need him.

Dinner was eaten in silence. Ever since Duncan's mother had grounded him for leaving the apartment without telling her about an hour previous, I had felt so very alone. I needed someone to talk to, but I had no one now. That was one of the downsides to moving a lot; forever alone. All of my friends-if I ever made any in the previous place-had stayed in that previous place.

"Courtney, why are you mad?" Casey was truly innocent. She hadn't done anything wrong, but she could clearly spot the tension that was circling in the air. The sneaky glances that me and my mother were shooting across the table at each other clearly weren't that subtle. I'm not sure what Casey was thinking had happened, but I'm sure that she didn't know the truth.

"Casey, go finish your homework."

"Bu-"

"No buts!" Mom snapped at her. Casey looked like she was about to cry, which she probably would have if she had stayed at the dinner table for much longer. But Casey did as she was told and sulked off to her bedroom.

There was a rough silence in the air again, the two of us just continuously staring at each other. What was I to do? She had been almost lying to me for most of my life. Well, it wasn't so much as lying, but it felt just as bad. She had kept letters that were addressed to me from me! It hurt to think that my mother would do something like that to me for her own defense. But she had.

"How many are there?"

"A-A few..." I nodded my head.

"Can I have them?" That stirred a nerve. I know my mother was going to have a hard time with handing everything over, but I needed her to deal with it. I had a strong need to read every single letter that had been addressed to me from day one.

My mother got up and motioned for me to follow her, but I didn't. I stayed at the table and waited for her to bring everything back to me. And she did. But the wait between the time my mother entered her bedroom to the time she dropped that cardboard box on the table was agonizing. I still hadn't read the last letter, how was I supposed to read the rest? But I wanted to read them from start to finish. It was like a story to me; I wanted to know how it started and I needed to know how it ended.

"Sex toys?" I read in disgust.

"I had to make sure that if you did ever find this box then you wouldn't look in it."

"You didn't have to..." I mumbled, trying not to look at my mother. I knew that in normal circumstances she would have rolled her eyes at me, but these were not the sort of circumstances that she should have been doing it in. The only thing that was stopping me from being beyond pissed off at that point was the fact that she hadn't tried to deny me the rest of the letters.

"H-How many are in here?" I asked, completely overwhelmed by the fact that she had been hiding so many from me all these years, "When did...h-he start sending them?" I should have said dad in that sentence, but I didn't. I was still having a hard time coming to the fact that he had been sending me so many letters over the years. He had wanted to contact me. How had he even got our addresses every time we moved? Why was he sending me all these letters? What did these letters say? Was he sorry for not being there for me? Was he aware that I was now sixteen? Did he know I had a little sister? Did he know, did he know, did he know. So many questions ran around and around in my mind. And there was only one way to answer them.

"One a week since your eighth birthday." She whispered it quietly but it still made my blood run cold as I thought about how long my mother had been keeping the letters from me. I was almost seventeen years old!

"Hey," Duncan called out behind me. I turned to face him, knowing that he had once again snuck out without his parents' permission. "What are you...?" But his voice trailed off. It took me a few minutes to realize that even Duncan could read. My eyes went wide and my face went red; did he really think what I thought he was thinking?

"The box does not contain what it says it does!" I quickly stammered out, not knowing what to think next now. Duncan's mind was as dirty as I had ever come across, I didn't really want him thinking anything was happening. Ever.

Duncan jumped up on the table, his butt hitting down with a crunch as he landed on whatever food item he had stolen before leaving his own apartment. His face started down into the box with disbelief at the amount, though he did say nothing.

"That's..." I closed my eyes, doing the math in my mind. "That's four hundred and fifty two letters!" Okay, I was a nerd when it came to quick mathematics, but it did come in handy at times such as this.

There was a loud knock on the door as I dove straight into the letters. I didn't really care for who was there; I was more interested in trying to work out what order the letters went in to bother thinking about who was at the door.

"Who is it?" My mother shouted, her eyes following my hands as I picked up letters and read the address' to get some sort of realization about it all. All of the address'-millions of address'-that brought back memories for me. Some painful, others even more so.

"Prince Charming." I stopped and dropped the letters I had in my hands. Matt. Of course, he only had to show up now. But I did crack a smile. Matt could make me smile quite easily for some reason. I guess it had always been that feeling that if the guy was good enough for my mother, good enough for my sister, he was good enough for me. And Matt was definitely good enough.

"Come in!" Mom called out to him and he entered the apartment quietly. I know him and mom had only had a date last night, but they had been getting close at work for a while, so close in fact that my mother had called Matt before dinner and asked him to come over because she was worried. Worried for what? Me. My mother was worried that I would never talk to her again, that I would never forgive her for what she had done. Of course I would have forgiven her eventually. I was mad, I was pissed off, but I still loved my mother to pieces. I just wanted her to know what she had done to me.

"What's-Am I interrupting?" Yes, another genius in our apartment that could read. Duncan burst into a fit of manly giggles whilst pretending that he wasn't. My mother's face went bright red, the way I had when Duncan entered. I just face-palmed myself. That was all I had left to do in the end.

'I've got all the letters in my possession now, at least. Me and Duncan had spent the rest of the night sorting the letters into a lot of different piles according to address and then, using the list of address' I had lived at that I added to every time I moved, we sorted them into an order on the floor from start to finish.

I'll start reading them tomorrow...I am not going into school; I am staying home and reading as many letters as I can. I want to know everything from the beginning.

Peace and Love, Girl On The Move'

A/N: This was super long.

I am not going to talk today because I know I'll say something I will regret posting on the internet.

All in all, I want a lot of deaths today.

Thank you to;

DxCfanlover: haha, tongue war XD Take it from me, being a teen with a friend with benefits is not an easy task...Especially since one of my parents are always home and I'm always far too lazy to go over his! haha! Count yourself lucky, boyfriends are a lot more work than they are worth. I'm happy to be single for a while (: haha, that is one way to describe a book; a bad boyfriend. Definitely! And I would give you permission to kill me if I didn't know who Moaning Myrtle was! haha! Thank you :D

ThatSuperHotSexyBookWorm: I have to! I need to read Beautiful Creatures so I can watch the film! Hope your books came in, should keep you quiet for a while ;) haha! Thanks :D

NoH8-make-a-rainbow: Ah...the ending...such a...ending? I don't know XD It's sad yet happy yet sad, all at the same time! Thank you :D

Love you!

Thanks for reading, please review (:

Love, ChloeRhiannonX