Hey guys! Sorry for the wait! I got sidetracked with some of my other stories, this week, and this story was pushed to the side for a little bit. But the good news is that I'm going to start writing (and finish) Love Isn't Always Beautiful' once the summer starts. I'll have a lot of time, then, so it won't be as hard to write two stories at once! So, if anyone's still interested in that, you'll have that to look forward to.
I'm sorry if you guys were emailed that this story was updated, a few days ago; I was testing something out, because my computer was acting up, and I wanted to make sure that a few things worked. Here's the real chapter twenty six; I apologize for the inconvenience.
What did you guys think of this week's episode? I thought it would have been perfect if they would have just replaced Finn with Sam. But Rachel really did deserve to win prom queen. As for Samcedes, I'm not that big of a fan, but they're cute, I guess; the only Sam ship that I can tolerate that isn't Samchel/ Evanberry is Samtana; but anything is better than Fabrevans.
I'm sorry to say that there isn't any Olivia in this chapter. But there is some Samtana, Pezberry, Faberry, and Pierceberry (and lots and lots of Samchel, of course), so hopefully that makes up for it. There is some slight M rated material towards the end of this chapter. It's nothing major, it is there; you have been warned.
Now on to chapter Twenty Six:
Hold Your Hand
Chapter Twenty Six
Rachel woke up the next morning, feeling like shit. She always felt like shit when she was fighting with Sam; it was as if being mad at Sam Evans was physically detrimental to her health. The brown eyed girl sat up in bed, removing some stray strands of hair from her face, as she reviewed the events of the night before.
Sam had gotten upset with her when he found the check from Shelby in the mail. She didn't understand why, though. It really wasn't that bad, was it? She technically didn't do anything wrong. Her mother had offered her money, and Rachel had accepted it; Sam would have done the same thing, if the money had come from his mother, right?
God, why did her husband have to be so stubborn, sometimes? She knew that he had his pride, but… was all of that really necessary? And sure, the money wasn't so badly needed, but it was nice to have a cushion; a safety mat, just in case (god forbid) something were to happen to one of them; whether one of them were to lose their job, or be in an accident… she just liked having some sort of security.
"Urgh," she growled when she stepped out of bed. The baby was really moving, on that one particular day. Some days, she really loved being pregnant. Feeling their little girl kick, every so often, knowing that there was another little person that she and Sam had made- another Olivia- was in there; but there were just some days when she wished that the baby would just get out of there, already. It was getting harder and harder to carry her around; even just standing up, and tying her shoes, were becoming a challenge; this was one of those days.
Sighing, she began to get dressed; fight or no fight, she still had work, early this morning. She was just going to have to grin and bear it, while she was there.
.X.x.X.x.X.
Sam's eyes slowly flickered open. "What?" he shook his head in confusion when he saw their living room walls. That's when he remembered; the check, the anger, the argument, the feeling of betrayal… it was all coming back to him, now.
He did feel the slightest bit of remorse for blowing up like that; he knew how hotheaded he could be, and every once in a blue moon, his temper got the best of him; but that still didn't give Rachel an excuse for hiding all of that money from him.
It wasn't fair. He worked so fucking hard, almost every day, to make sure that he, his wife, and his daughter would be okay; and then she just completely pulls that away from him, making him look like an idiot in front of the woman that he had been trying to impress, ever since he and Rachel had gotten back together; and now, she was probably laughing at him, with her new boyfriend. He was still kind of freaked out by that, because whenever he thought of Shelby with a boyfriend, he thought of them having sex, which really freaked him out… don't get him wrong, Shelby was really pretty, and everything, but come on, she was his wife's mother, for god sakes. Thinking about her banging with some guy that he didn't know was just too creepy for words.
He looked down at his arms, and the pillow that he was now holding tightly in them; it was no substitute for Rachel; he really did miss her, last night; hell, he needed that woman more than he needed oxygen. His heart ached whenever they were apart.
But Sam was still furious with her. He didn't know when he would get over this whole issue… maybe he never really would. It was too early to sort everything out, right now.
He sat up, immediately hissing at the spears of pain that stabbed at his body from a million different angles. Shit, that couch was shouldn't even be called a couch; a 'medieval torture device' seemed like a more proper name for the piece of furniture… why did it always seem so comfy when he and Rachel laid down on it, together?
He was off, on that particular day, so he didn't have to get up and ready, at any particular time; he'd probably get up off the couch whenever Olivia woke up, calling him to "tend to her daily needs", as he would always joke.
He groaned at the pain in his back, and flopped back on the couch. Reaching for the remote, he turned the television on at a low volume, not wanting to wake his daughter (or his wife; he didn't want to admit it to himself, since he was pretty angry with her, at the moment, but he really didn't want her to go to work feeling tired).
Sam hated being mad at Rachel; it made his head hurt, his throat sore (because of all the screaming), and his heart ache, from not being able to hold her close to him, hug her, or kiss her.
Just then, he heard footsteps coming down the hall, and saw Rachel walk right through the small living room, and into the kitchen. She didn't bother to give him so much as an annoyed glance, as if seeing him were an unpleasant surprise.
The green eyed boy watched as she took out a bowl, a spoon and a box of cereal, still not paying any attention to him, whatsoever.
"Why are you mad at me?" he asked her, abruptly.
"Because you're being an ass," she answered simply, before pouring the cereal into the bowl.
"Me? Being an ass?" he shook his head in disbelief, "are you freaking kidding me? You're the one who was taking money from your mother behind my back!"
"Well you're the one who had a complete meltdown. It's just a few thousand dollars in case we need it, Sam! I have a right to be mad!"
"No," he shook his head, "no you don't. You're not allowed to be mad at me over this, Rachel Evans!" he shouted at her.
"You know what, Sam?" she sighed and shook her head, "I'm not in the fucking mood, right now. We're not doing this, right now, Sam."
"Yes now… I'm the one who's supposed to be mad, here!"
"You know what?" she slammed her cereal down on the kitchen counter, "screw you; I don't need you and your stupid shit, right now!" okay, so maybe I'm pushing things a little too far, right now, but I have a right to be pissed , too! I'm allowed to make some freaking decisions once in a while! "I'm leaving! Tell Olivia I said goodbye!" and with that, she walked out the door, slamming it behind her.
The blonde boy buried his face in his hands, groaning in frustration. Why did Rachel have to be so freaking difficult, sometimes? He knew that he might sound hypocritical, since he was always telling her how much he loved how strong willed she was, but at this point, he just didn't care. He was fucking angry; no, not angry; Sam Evans was furious.
He hated high school. He hated it because he always felt so stupid while he was there; between all of the work, and the whole cliques, and the social pyramid that was going on… it was all so confusing. And now, he had everything figured out (or at least he thought he did; parenthood was still pretty tough), but he still felt like an idiot; all because of Rachel and that stupid money.
Well, he wasn't going to let someone make him feel that way, again. He loved Rachel, he truly, truly did, but he wasn't going to let this go; not for a while, anyway.
.X.x.X.x.X.
"So how was the honeymoon?" Rachel asked Brittany and Santana, as she sat down next to Quinn on the large orange couch in the middle of the newlyweds' living room.
"It was amazing," the Latina smiled.
"So hot," Brittany added.
"So how's baby Evans?" Santana asked, "is she kicking a lot, now?"
"Yeah," the brown eyed girl nodded and sighed, looking down at her feet.
"What's wrong, Rachel?" Quinn patted her shoulder, "you seem upset."
"Yeah, I was going to say something about that too," Santana agreed, "you're not really… yourself , today."
"Oh my god," Brittany gasped, "did Barbara Streisand die, or something?"
"No," Rachel shook her head and sighed again, "it's… it's just that… Sam and I are kind of in a fight…" she decided to leave out that 'kind of' was a pretty big understatement.
"What happened?" the darker girl snorted, "did you accidentally rip the corner of one of his comic books, or something?"
"No, Santana," she shook her head, "I… okay… here's the whole story. A while ago, I was talking to my mother; during the conversation, I brought up how we were going to be spending a lot of money with the pregnancy, and everything, so… so then… she offered me money. At first I didn't know if I should take it because Sam and I were doing great, and I really didn't want to start depending on her for money again… but then I thought of Olivia, and how much I spent on just her alone, back when I was in high school… so I accepted it… and… ever since then, she's been sending me a check, every month."
"So?" Brittany shrugged, "what's the problem?"
"The problem is, that I haven't told Sam, and he found out about two days ago… he… he was so angry, and… his face was all red, and he just…" she shook her head, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.
"Rachel…" Santana shook her head, "Sam… Sam didn't hit you, did he?" she rubbed soothing circles on Rachel's back, "because I swear to god if he did, then you and Livy are moving in here with us, and I'm kicking his ass."
"No," the petite brunette shook her head, "he… he didn't…" she wiped her eyes with the back of her palm, "I think it's a mixture of the pregnancy hormones and the frustration, "it's just… I don't understand why he's so mad… I… I technically didn't do anything wrong, right?"
"Well," Quinn sighed and shook her head, "to us: no; you didn't really do anything wrong. But to a guy: it… it's really complicated. Guys lie to be the big, strong protector and provider of the house… who knows why, guys are weird… it's kind of a pride thing, I guess."
"That's why we're lucky," Brittany smiled at her wife, "we never have to deal with any of them."
"So what do you suppose I do? Just let him be right? What kind of anti-feministic example would I be setting for Olivia if I did that?"
"No," Quinn shook her head, "of course not; that wouldn't be right… all I'm saying is that his mind works differently from yours, I guess… he just… he wants to feel… appreciated? I'm not sure… that's pretty much all I got out of that Psychology class that I took in twelfth grade."
"It's okay, I just… I really miss him… last night was the second night in a row we slept alone, and… why does all of this have to be so freaking annoying?"
"Hey," Santana shrugged, "no one said that marriage would be easy; plus you're dealing with a guy, here… they're not that smart."
"That's not true," Rachel giggled, "Sam is extremely smart; like I always tell him, if he just applied himself a little more, he could go very far, and do some really great things, such as-"
"No more!" Brittany exclaimed, "you sound like my mom!"
"Rachel's right," Quinn nodded and sighed, "even though they can really get on our nerves, sometimes, we can't live without them."
"Exactly," the Jewish girl nodded in agreement, "Sam is incredible in so many ways; he's sweet, funny, handsome, adorable dorky, patient, caring… but he's also passionate… which, don't get me wrong, it's a great thing, but, when he's angry… he can get carried away; and that's just what happened a few nights ago," she shook her head, beginning to cry, again, "I'm sorry, guys; I just miss him, plus my hormones have been making me go crazy, lately."
"It's totally fine," Quinn giggled, "I know how you feel. I don't know him too well, but he'd better know how difficult this is for you, because if he doesn't, then… I'm sorry, but that just makes him ungrateful."
"Oh, he knows; and he's been so helpful during these past six months; god, he's the sweetest; and those lips, oh man, I miss those lips… and his cheeks…"
"His cheeks?" Brittany shook her head in confusion.
"They're…" she sighed, "they're just so squeezable, you know?"
"Oh yes," Santana nodded, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "please go on; tell us more about your wonderful husband, his weird ass nerd fetishes, and his sixteen hundred comic books; I'm just dying to know more about him."
"Alright Santana, I get it… you don't care that much about Sam… and I know that sometimes he can act like a hotheaded idiot… but he's my freaking hotheaded idiot; my dork; my geek; my pervert; my guy," she sobbed.
"We know, Rachel," Quinn rubbed her shoulder.
"Wait a second…" Brittany looked at the three other girls in the room, "I kind of want to talk about Sam's fetishes."
"What?" the other blonde girl shook her head in confusion, "but… but why, Britt?"
"Come on," she shrugged, "Sam… Sam's a little weird…"
"This coming from the girl who spent her entire summer vacation trying to catch a mermaid at long beach…" Rachel mumbled in between sobs.
"Hey!" Santana raised her voice just a bit, "don't diss my baby."
"Then tell her to stop dissing mine," she whispered so softly, that no one else could hear her.
"What I'm trying to say is," Brittany continued, "don't you guys want to know what kind of freaky stuff they do in the bedroom?"
"No, not really," Quinn shook her head.
Santana sighed as she watched her friend continue to cry; this wasn't right. The girl was pregnant, for gods sakes. She should be happy that she and her husband were having another child of their own; not crying because he was freaking out over a couple of stupid checks. The Latina knew that it really wasn't her place to do anything about it, but… Rachel just seemed so upset, and… well, it was her best friend! She didn't know what, but… she had to do something.
.X.x.X.x.X.
"Evans!" Santana walked into Sam and Rachel's apartment, not even bothering to knock, "I need to talk to you!" she looked around the apartment, "come on! I know that you're here, somewhere!"
"What?" Sam walked down the hall, shaking his head in confusion, "Santana, what are you doing here? And don't you know how to knock?"
"I'm not happy, trouty," she looked him in the eye, "would you care to know why I'm not happy?"
"Oh jeez," Sam sighed; he knew what was coming, "why aren't you happy, Santana?" he said, monotonously.
"I'm not happy because of what you're doing to my best friend."
The green eyed boy crossed his arms. He wasn't going to let this happen; he wasn't going to let the Latina scold him, when she probably hadn't even heard the entire story, yet, "Santana-"
"I thought I made myself clear, guppy face; if you were ever to hurt Rachel, then I kick your ass; well guess what? Rachel's hurting! What do you have to say for yourself, now?"
"Why do you always believe what Rachel has to say?" Sam shook his head, "just because you guys have been friends since you were little doesn't mean that she's always right."
"You're right; that doesn't mean that she's always right; but I really care about that, right now. All I know is that my best friend, your wife, has spent the entire day crying on my living room couch, because of you. Look," Santana sighed, "you're one of my closet friends, and I care about you…"
"Really?" Sam raised an eyebrow.
"Well, yeah; you make my girl happy… well, you do most of the time, anyway… I just want to see the two of you happy, again."
"I'm glad that I make Rachel happy; because I spend every waking moment of my life trying to make sure that that woman is happy; why? Because I fucking love her! And what does she do? She takes money from her mom, behind my back!"
"Sam, relax; she didn't mean to-"
"I'm sorry Santana, but do you have any idea how shitty that makes me feel? To know that my wife has to go searching for money, that I'm supposed to provide for her?"
"Don't be stupid, Sam; just swallow your pride, and accept the money. You and I both know that you guys need it."
"You don't think that I feel fucking terrible; Rachel, and Olivia, and the new baby… they're all counting on me; and I just want to make them proud; and I could have… I could have proved myself to them, if Rachel had just given me a freaking chance!"
"No one wants you to prove yourself!" the Latina exclaimed, "look; I know this isn't my place to interfere, but I just want you two to be happy; you're going to have to learn to deal with stressful situations; Rachel's pregnant with your second child for god sakes! In a few months, you'll be getting about one hour of sleep every night… so just try to think about what I just told you, okay?"
"Yeah," he sighed. He knew that Santana was right. But he was still angry. What Rachel did was wrong, and he wasn't just going to let her do those kinds of things behind his back. It wasn't that easy.
.X.x.X.x.X.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked Rachel as he watched her place her pillow and a blanket on the couch. He had to admit… she looked really cute in her pink flannel bunny pajamas… not that he would ever admit that, at the moment… he was still mad at her.
"Getting ready for bed," she stated, "I'm sleeping on the couch." The small girl wasn't going to tell her husband the truth; that she felt bad about making him sleep on the couch three nights in a row, so was instead letting him take the bed, that night.
"You didn't have to do that…"
"But I want to… I… I like sleeping on the couch… it.. it feels great. You go to bed… I don't want to see your face right now." Okay… now she felt really terrible.
"Fine," he said, slightly hurt, "whatever."
Later that night, he snuck down the hall, and into the living room. The small girl was tossing and turning on the couch, obviously uncomfortable. It took a lot of strength not to just carry her to bed, and hold her in his arms, telling her that everything was going to be alright.
But he didn't. Instead, he just looked at her with longing eyes, before walking back to bed. Wow, he thought, some husband I must be.
.X.x.X.x.X.
Rachel looked at her husband. He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, sipping a beer. She knew that he really must have been upset, since he rarely ever drank.
"What?" he answered, his voice was cold, and almost distant.
"I… I think we need to talk… you know, about the whole money incident."
"There's nothing to talk about," the green eyed bot shook his head, "you're the one who lied to me, and went behind my back; there's nothing more to it."
"I think we both know that there's a lot more to it," she whispered, "Sam, look at me. We need to talk about this."
"Oh, so now you're my mother, now? God damn it, why do you keep treating me like some little kid that can't handle anything?" he explained, "because I'm not! I'm… I'm your husband, Rachel!"
"Well, maybe if you stopped acting so fucking immature, all the time, I wouldn't have to act like that!"
"Oh?" he threw his arms up in frustration, "so now I'm not a fucking man? Is that it? Tell me what if fucking was that made you go to your mom's, looking for money!"
"For the last fucking time, I wasn't looking for money! She just gave it to me!" she screamed back, "and no one's questioning your masculinity, for the record! God forbid anyone thinks otherwise, right?"
Sam shook his head; that woman really knew how to get under his skin. Sometimes he thought that she would make him go crazy; he loved her to death, which was crazy. He would do absolutely anything for her, be anything she wanted or needed. He would fucking die for her. His love for her multiplied by the second, and was he certain that one day, the amount of love he felt for her would drive him to the point of madness. But at the same time, when they fought, they really did fight. They were both so good at it… neither one of them breaking, each standing their ground. Rachel Barbara Evans would someday be the end of him; that was certain.
"Why do you like to do this to me, Rachel? Why do you screw me in the head, all the time?" he barked
"You're insane."
"You fucking make me insane!"
And then his mouth was on hers. He savored the feeling of her soft lips against his, and lifted her up onto the kitchen counter. He groaned as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. God, her tongue was so sweet; he'd missed this… so much, that when he started kissing her, he didn't think that he'd be able to stop.
"I'm mad at you… you make me crazy…" he felt her legs wrap around his waist, and he swallowed hard.
"I'm mad at you too, Sam Evans…" she whispered against his ample lips, before connecting their mouths, their tongues dancing and gliding together, meshing their saliva into one, sweet, single taste.
"Please, Rae," Sam breathed, "just… just move your panties out of the way.
"Oh god Sam…" She reached behind herself and pulled the crotch of her panties out of the way. She heard him unzip his jeans, and then, all of a sudden, she felt him inside of her.
"Yes, Rachel…" he whispered, gently thrusting into her, "I fucking love you… you don't know," he moaned, "oh god, you have no fucking idea how much!"
"I love you too, Sammy," she buried her face into his chest, her hips moving in synchronization with his. His pushing was going fast, slow, fast, slow, and his moaning was picking up, getting a little louder. She knew he was close and whispered shhh in his ear, not wanting to wake up the little one, "oh Sam," she whimpered, "you feel so fucking good."
"Rae, I… I can't, I… oh shit…" The last two words came out a little louder than he anticipated when he came.
He was still moaning in her ear as he rode out his orgasm, feeling her do the same.
"Angry sex rocks, Sam…" she finally said, her voice still trembling.
"True that," he agreed, pressing his forehead against hers.
"Sam?" she whispered, her teeth lightly chewing on her bottom lip.
"Yeah?"
"I… I'm sorry… you know, for talking the money from my mom, behind your back. It was wrong of me, and out of line, and… I'm so sorry… it's just… I'm scared, Sam. I mean, what's going to happen if something unexpected were to happen, just out of the blue?"
"You're not the one who should be sorry…" the blonde boy shook his head, " I should… I'm… I'm sorry that I kind of just exploded, the other day; it… it's just… I know that I can't pay for everything that you want, and… that really, really bothers me, baby. I'm the husband, and the dad… what's Olivia going to think when she learns that her dad's just some big loser?"
"You're Olivia's hero, Sammy," she placed two fingers under his chin, lifting his head so his eyes met hers, "and you're not a loser; you work hard to make sure that we have food on the table, and-"
"No I don't," he shook his head, "you have to work too, even though you're almost seven months pregnant! And we still need help from your mom!"
"That doesn't even matter," Rachel wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, "what matters is that you're here; that you're working as hard as you can, and doing as much as you can. Now if that's a loser, then Jesse's not good enough to be one… and… because of you, I'm going to college… I'm going to make something of myself… that would have never happened if you hadn't pushed me. I'm Rachel Barbara Berry, god damn it… and Rachel Barbara Berry knows a loser when she sees one… and if you were a loser, then my name would still be Rachel Barbara Berry," she gently moved the blonde bangs out of his emerald green eyes, "but it's not… my name is Rachel Barbara Evans, and I'm proud of it."
"Mmm," he pressed his lips against hers, once again, "I've missed you so much, Rachel," he whispered.
"Don't stop that," Rachel whispered.
"Don't stop what?" he asked, shaking his head in confusion.
"Kissing me," she whispered, gently pressing her hand against his cheek.
"Mmm hmm," was his only response, seeing that it was too late to answer verbally; his lips were already back on hers, once again, his hands moving around her back. Kissing Rachel had always been one of Sam's favorite things; up until they had made love for the first time, back in high school, it was the most intimate they would ever get, as close as they would ever get; he loved feeling so close to her; feeling that no one could ever break them apart. The feeling still meant a lot to Sam, even now, when they did just about everything that two lovers could possibly do… it still all started with a kiss; each one being even more special than the last. Their hearts would beat against each other's, each beating one billion times per second.
Their mouths moved in synchronization, slowly and sensually, trying to make up for lost time, after not touching each other for three days. Eventually, they would make their way to the bedroom that they shared. They'd slowly remove each article of the other's clothing, and make love to each other, again. And maybe in the morning, they'd wake up naked, and then move on top of each other, for slow, lazy morning sex. But for right now, they were absolutely happy with where they were; in their true love's arms, while experiencing one of the world's few perfections: a slow, passionate sensual kiss with the one they loved.
.X.x.X.x.X.
"Oh Sam," Rachel gasped, coming down from her fifth orgasm of the night. Her body fell against his, both of their bodies slightly moist from the sweat.
"Rachel," Sam whispered against her hair, gently wrapping his arms around her petite body as he gasped for air, "you're so incredible. I love you so fucking much... I don't think that anyone has loved anyone as much as I love you."
"I love you, too," she gently stroked his face.
For about a minute or two, Sam didn't move. He just remained inside her, trying to wrap his head around how large and strong his love was for the small girl… it was almost too much to bear.
"I can't stand it when we fight, Sammy," she whispered, "why do we have to fight?"
"To make up," he mumbled, "you look exhausted, baby," he whispered, "but so beautiful," he placed a kiss on her bump, and then on her forehead.
"Mmm," she hummed, "I've really missed sleeping in your arms."
"I've missed it, too," he whispered, "goodnight, Rachie."
"Goodnight, Sammy," she kissed his chest, right above where his heart was, before resting her head on that exact spot.
After about ten minutes, Sam felt Rachel beginning to squirm. First she turned to the right. After a few minutes, she sighed, and moved to the center… that obviously seemed ineffective, so she turned to the left. After about thirty minutes of this, the blonde boy sat up, holding her in his hands.
"What's wrong, baby?" he whispered, his green eyes full of concern.
"It's…" the small girl sighed, "it's… it's the baby, Sam!" she exclaimed.
"What about the baby?" Sam asked.
"She… it… it just hurts, Sam!"
"How does it hurt, Rachel?" he gently brushed some stray strands of hair out of her eyes.
"Well…" she took his hand in hers, squeezing it affectionately, "when I lay on my right, that side hurts. Whenever I lay on my left, the other side hurts. And when I lay in the center, my god damn crotch hurts! I love this baby, but why can't she just come out, already? It would save all of us a lot of time and grief!"
"I know, baby," he began.
"No you don't know!" she snapped, causing his eyes to widen in surprise, "you'll never know how it feels, because you're just guy! You have it so easy! And guess what I get after going through twelve hours of agonizing, painful labor? I get my freaking period back! Aren't I lucky?"
"Rachel, please don't get mad at me? Don't you think that I wish it was me instead of you? I hate seeing you in pain, Rachel… because when you're in pain… I'm in pain, too."
"Aw," she sighed, immediately feeling horrible, "I'm sorry for just exploding like that, it's the mood swings."
"I understand, baby. And here's what I'll do about the whole sleeping situation, "I'll stay awake with you until you fall asleep."
"Oh Sam, you don't have to-"
"But I want to," he shook his head, "it's the least I can do, baby."
"How the hell did I get so lucky?" she asked, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips.
Sam chuckled and shook his head, deciding to let her think whatever she wanted. He knew the truth; that he was the lucky one.
So? Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Like I said before, there's no Olivia. But don't worry! The plotline of the next chapter revolves around her character, so hopefully that will make up for it. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them. I have the next few chapters finished, but actually going through a bit of a writer's block for chapter twenty nine, so I'd love to hear your ideas.
I also want to take the time out to say that I'm really glad that you guys like Olivia. She's like my little brain baby, and I'm really glad that people are responding well to her character. Like I said before, she's going to have a huge part in the next chapter. She's my first real original character, and I can't thank you all enough for all of the love!
Chapter twenty seven is completely finished. All I ask is for fifteen reviews, and I'll post it; so please review! I love hearing from you guys!