A/N* I'm excited to be able to work on Dusted. For now, chapters will come out as they are written. I have 1-2 more in store at this moment but my hope is that I can go between updating this and The Eagle. If it gets to be too much, I will push this one off until summer. But for now, let's see how this goes!
Mom let me drive home from school, (which was both scary and exciting). I'm seventeen and have had my license for a year but we only have one car and I rarely get to drive it.
Her hands gripped the seat the whole time and every couple of minutes she would say something like "Make sure you stay in your lane" and "Speed up!" because apparently, the normal population doesn't follow the speed limit. However, I'm going to keep following it, no matter what she says. I love my mom but sometimes she can be a little controlling.
My mom...how do I describe her? She's a very interesting person that's for sure. I've never met my dad, although I think he and mom meet occasionally because I found his contacts on her phone. I don't really want to meet him. It was one of those events where things happened and I was an accident. But mom says it was the best accident that's ever happened to her. (I would agree with that). She is a travel agent that works independently. Most of her clients seek her out...which I've always thought is a little weird but it pays the bills. I'm not allowed into the basement (don't worry, I've tried to sneak down there countless times but it's got some hardcore security...which is also a little weird). We don't live in a big house but it's enough for the two of us. Mom is gone some nights and days but never longer than two days and she spaces it out. The most she's ever been gone is six times in a month. But she was home in time for Christmas and that's all I wanted. Just her and me, in our jammies with presents and fresh-baked cinnamon rolls. She's tall and slim (although we've both put on a few pounds during these winter months when there's nothing to do but bake cookies and eat them. Now that it's spring we are trying to get out and exercise more), her hair is raven-colored, cut to a short bob. I'd say we look very much alike. My hair is the same color except it's long and has metallic silver dipped tips, I'm just shorter than her but she's six foot so I'm okay being shorter. And both of our faces are slightly oval-like. However, my greenish-gray eyes are bigger than hers.
The door creaks behind me as it slams closed. Mom leads me to the kitchen while the aroma of baking brownies filters through the air. The oven groans as she pulls open the door and peeks in. My stomach growls at just the smell, but the homework in my bag weighs heavier. The bag makes a thunk sound when it plops onto the rickety thing we call a dining table (really it's just a glorified side table with some chairs.).
"Wow, what do you have in there, rocks?" she grins, pulling the gooey, delicious-looking brownies out.
"Something like that" I actually do have rocks in my bag, my science teacher wants us to test them with different chemicals to clean them and see which one cleans best. Her chuckle is like the gentle ring of a wind chime and music to my ears. It's one of my favorite sounds, hearing my mother's laughter. Although it can be an odd sound coming from a six-foot-tall woman with black hair, a professional pant-suit, and dark-colored makeup. The rest of my books and notebooks slide out as mom flops into the seat across from me, a contemplative look on her face.
It's hard to focus on school when someone is watching you, looking up at her, my eyebrows wiggle up and down. "What's wrong?"
"How do you know something's wrong?" she quizzes, wiggling her brows in return as a soft smile plays at her lips.
"Your's lips were pulled down, posture uncomfortable, and eyes...scrunched...and you're getting ready to lie to me because your fingers are twitching" It sounds weird to most people but I can't stop the triumphant feeling rising up. Mom has taught me how to read body language and how to tell when someone is lying. It comes in handy more often than you would think.
"You're right K. You've done well with the body language training...and I've been thinking about things. You're getting older now and there's something I need you to remember for me-"
She waits until I make eye contact and nod before continuing
"-If something ever happens to me, or I don't come home for one reason or another, you cannot go to the police. I know it's what you should do but it could ruin a lot of people's lives. Downtown there's that nice little antique clock shop, remember it?"
"The Tick Tock Stop right?" to be honest, this conversation is kind of scaring me. Mom's voice rarely takes on a serious tone.
"Yes, The Tick Tock Stop. You go there and ask the front person for Tom Foolery. Don't roll your eyes at me Kyleigh, this is serious and I need you to remember it. Tom will come and don't say anything about me until he takes you to a safe location. Explain whatever it is and you will be taken care of, I promise. You are my flesh and blood, that will mean a lot to a lot of people. I know it all sounds weird and you've done a good job ignoring my weirdness for a long while. But you're going to be eighteen in a month and you're old enough to start learning about being a Travel Agent." she gives a nervous smile before standing and squeezing my shoulder.
I tuck the information away for later, even though part of me thinks it sounds ridiculous.
Mom acts as though nothing ever happened for the rest of the night. I get my homework done and we indulge in the fudgy brownies over a documentary about gangs and mafia and how the black market runs. It's honestly really interesting. At eleven, Mom gives me her "I should make you go to bed earlier...but it's too late so it's bedtime now" look and with a dramatic sigh, I push to my feet. She does the same and kisses each of my cheeks, which is not uncommon, but the tight hug that follows is. My returning hug is awkward but it feels nice. A moment later she lets go and I walk down the hallway to my bedroom, mom follows, going to her own room, but she stops at the door and turns, her bright green eyes meeting my perplexed expression.
"Kylie, I have loved every minute of raising you. You are the light of my life and the reason I work so hard, I just want the best for you, always.-" Her eyes become glassy and confusion swells inside of my chest but before I can say anything, she continues talking "- I don't say it enough but I love you...I'm going to try and say it more often" the sentence ends in a tight smile and in the blink of an eye she has gone into her room, the lock clicking softly.
That was weird.
Usually, it's "I'm proud of you, have a goodnight." or "You are a good person, don't forget that".
Present-day, post-un-dusting.
That was when the weirdness had reached a whole new level. But she didn't say anything else like that for quite a while. I forgot to mention that we lived in New York and it's common for odd things to happen but then (and I've counted this countless times so I know the date is correct) a year after the whole "Civil War" that happened between the Avengers, a giant donut-shaped space ship appeared in the sky. In fact, I happened to be walking down the street to a cute little cafe when a giant wind blew across the street and a whirring sound started. It was actually quite terrifying. You probably know what happened after that, crap happened, and half the population disappeared...but I don't think you quite understand what that was like.
A/N* If you're new to my stories, thanks for stopping by! If you liked this then go check out The Eagle. It's my first story and just had its 70th chapter posted today!