Hello I am back- I am making it a goal to write for my story at least once a week- sorry I suck at updating I know that upsets Fanfiction people

CHAPTER 13

I woke up to rain washing across my everything.

It wasn't until I slammed my head into the facet when I was trying to sit up did I remember I was in the shower.

I moaned, and rubbed furiously at the top of my head- as if that would smooth away all of my aches and worries, I mused.

A steady stream of hot water thrummed across my back, kneading the knots in my muscles. My thoughts melted beneath the touch. Well, Jacuzzi-temperature water might help.

I wanted to stay there forever, hunched within the water with my head locked between my knees; Stuck in a fetal position where no one could get a hold of me: Sorry, Chloe cannot come to Reality right now, please leave a message after the beep. BEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

The bathroom seemed to escape the constricting embrace of time. Maybe, if I stayed there, I could figure everything out, find the answers, and leave the bathroom when I wanted to, and the world would still be exactly like it was when I had first climbed into the tub.

If only.

Sadly, things needed to start getting done. Something needed to happen. Hiding in the penthouse could only work for so long.

My mom's face faded into my mind.

She must have called the police already. I was sure of it. A teenager missing for over a week? Yup.

God, she deserved so much better.

I have to call her, I think. I have to contact her, let her know I am okay.

I hesitated to move though. I was lost in the consistent patter of the shower.

Eventually though, I let out a monstrous groan, one that bounced against the walls and echoed all around me like a beautiful and natural tornado. Then I stretched my soggy limbs across the smooth ceramic of the tub.

Reluctantly, I forced my fingers to twist the shower knob to "off". The water sniffled and then ceased, and I was tempted to sniffle with it. BUT, instead of throwing the tantrum I was yearning to release, my body quivered with chills. Not cold chills, but emotional chills. I guess that was a more grown up way of dealing with the world. I guess.

With my butt sticking to the tub, and a pathetic amount of hesitation, I started to concoct a mental checklist of things to do- gotta start somewhere:

Call mom and try to explain why I have forced myself to be an orphan

Stop whining

Restock the fridge with HEALTHIER options

Get someone to cook dinner. . oh wait, breakfast

Kick Zane's ass . . Hold on, gather my troops and help them find mental stabilibly THEN 6. Kick Zane's ass

Eventually, through the haze of the bathroom, I managed, sluggishly, to crawl out of the tub and drag cloths on. Now that I had a slight, miniscule idea of what to do, I felt all right. Not good, but no longer okay. I was so all right I even brushed my hair for the first time since I passed out. Happy unbirthday to me!

I tried to ignore the blonde haired, bright eyed, chick that stared at me from the mirror as I tucked my hair into a bun and took in a deep, centering breath.

Black shadows slithered beneath her eyes, reminding me to be the real robust, real ready, real real reflection of that girl.

With that in mind, I thrust open the bathroom door. Instantly a wave of cool, fresh air wafted around me, forcing the haze to swirl around itself and disappear. The hallway was vacant but I could hear Amy's high-pitched chatter, and- yes that was the smell of bacon and eggs!

" Time for reality", I mumbled to the penthouse.

My stomach growled.

It was weird walking into the kitchen entrance that morning. Nice, but weird. When I had stridden into the bulk of our home, I had not expected to run into a "Sunday-morning-before-church-brunch" type thing. I mean, I wasn't religious but I remembered seeing that kind of stuff on TV, and I heard people at school talk about it. I had to admit, it was kind of cool.

The dining room counter was covered in all kinds of foods- from fruit and oatmeal, to egg sandwiches filled with hash browns and bacon stacked one on top of the other, and of course, cheese Danishes and muffins. I felt like I had walked down to a hotel buffet.

I mean tons of food wasn't weird- especially since my insides were whining and tugging at My Everything for attention- the fact that the atmosphere surrounding the food was . . . normal . . . . was the weird thing. I had to admit, I was a bit concerned. Why wasn't the food swimming in negativity and despair?

Before I could truly question that, a blur of optimism and rainbows startled my attention.

Amy looked like a fairy as she danced around the kitchen with no shame. Her midnight hair followed her like a devoted partner, whom was willing to create a beautiful, tear-jerking duet with her as she sprinkled a bit of salt into the sizzling pan of eggs. I barely had time to process the glittering of the salt before she was pivoting to the counter to snatch a delicate bite of watermelon. As she chewed, she pivoted again to face the fridge. She swung the fridge door open and, with no hesitation or doubt, extracted a tub of bright and amazing looking orange juice from its designated spot.

We had orange juice? Wait, Amy could cook? WAIT, was Paul sitting on the kitchen counter slicing apples?!

"Hello, hello, hello my gorgeous Chloe, Chloe the best friend of me," Amy sang, as she noticed me gaping at the content couple. She paused a moment to make eye contact with me, and then, having succeeded, off she went, laying out six clear, CLEAN, cups next to Paul's hip. Paul managed- no, he didn't need to manage- Paul happily smiled at me as he continued to concentrate on his apple slicing duties.

"Uh," I began with a flustered shake of my head. "Hi."

I dared to enter Disneyland.

"How was your shower?" Amy asked.

I slipped into a kitchen chair, letting my hips sway from side to side with the swiveling seat. "Great," I shrugged. And, being in the presence of Amy, I knew, oddly enough, that that statement was true. My shower really had been great.

"Where did all of this come from?" I eyed a muddy colored muffin that sat before me on a plate of every kind of flavor you could imagine. Giving in to its beautiful shimmer, and the sweet baby chocolate chips (everything seemed to taste better when it was claimed "baby-like") I scooped up the goody and allowed myself to pick at the top. The sweet familiar taste melted in my mouth and happily lingered on my tongue.

Gosh dang it maybe all I needed was a giant Costco chocolate muffin to solve my problems.

"Paul and I went re-grocery shopping a little while ago," Amy replied. She was now filling each of the six glasses to the brim with orange juice. My mouth watered. Orange juice never looked so good.

"You went shopping while I was in the shower? Wow, you guys are efficient."

"What do you mean?" Paul said. He swiped the apple pieces from the counter and into a bowl.

Unfazed, I picked at the middle of my muffin. Still swaying, I started to carve a hole in the middle of it. I stuck my finger in it. Hehe, I made a chocolate cave.

"I mean, you guys were still here when I hopped in, and when I hopped out you're here now!"

"You do realize its ten thirty?" A new, harsh voice interjected. My bubble of happiness became tainted with bugs.

"Oh." Had I really fallen asleep for three hours in the shower?

"We had thought you had drowned or something," Amy joked, trying to reset the good mood. She was my devoted fly swatter.

"Actually, none of us said anything. So if you had drowned, and been dead in the shower, we wouldn't have guessed."

And there Moody Alek was being, well, Moody Alek.

He was busying himself with the shattered balcony door. I knew he had been avoiding all human contact. I hadn't even known he was there I had been so entranced by the kitchen scene.

"Woops," I said.

"Sure," Alek replied. He didn't look at us. If he didn't want to interact with us, why bother speaking up?

He focused on the empty frame. The sharp fragments of glass had already been swept up and disposed of. Now Alek was unsheathing a long piece of glass that still had a sticker on it that read "HOME DEPO!" in deep orange and black. Wow they were productive when I wasn't around.

"Okay," I said, hoping to avoid the awkward silence that was already among us. I placed a piece of muffin on to my tongue and I tried to let it dissolve. But now the food tasted like paper. Paul leaped off of the counter and quietly began to make a plate. Amy stood beside him, frowning at Alek.

Great. Way to ruin my one happy moment Alek. Or maybe, way to bring me back to what's what, a tiny voice in my mind suggested.

I flicked the muffin piece onto the plate with a huff and stood up. The chair hadn't expected my abruptness, and it continued to swing side to side like it was missing its occupant already.

I knew the Sunday-brunch type feel was too good to be true.

At least I got to play with my food without being told not to.

Mom.

My heart began to ache. Time to knock off my list of things to do. No more trying to relax. Apparently that was never going to happen unless I figured things out.

"I'll be right back," I said. "I have to go call my mom."

The three remained silent as I stalked down the hallway to Valentina's room.

My eyes found Jasmine's bedroom.

And I wondered where Brian and Jasmine were.