A/N Wow… I looked in my in my e-mail and I had 13 messages from the fanfic bot! I'd just like to say:
Alldressedupandnowheretogo: Thanx for telling me about that! I couldn't figure out what I wanted her middle name to be, I wrote that in accidentally. Lol. And thank you for the review.
Stonycase65: I know it's painfully obvious who that dad is, but I didn't want to say quite yet.
Chelsea, iluvspinner, castamla2010, jc4u, linzer-b, XxAngel02xX, thengrl13, Eden Marie, shoelace13, queenie12, slo motion: Thanks for the reviews! Hope you like this chapter!
Neviegirl: You reviewed just as I was writing this and checking my reviews. Lol!
So there we were riding in a cab to my grandparents house. I'd never been there, and I didn't see my grandparents very often, so I was kind of excited. My mom's eyes got wide when we passed this place called Hogart's Auto Shop. I don't know why. Maybe she knew Hogart? I'd never heard of him. We passed a couple more of his shops on the way to Spike and Snake's.
After a while, we pulled up to a blue house with a red door (A/N I don't know what Emma's house looks like). There was a mailbox that said Nelson/Simpson, so I assumed that this was my mom's old house. When we pulled into the driveway, my mom paid the taxi driver, and we were greeted by Spike, Snake, and Jack. Spike is my grandma, her real name is Christine, but we call her Spike, I don't know why. Snake is my mom's stepdad, but I call him my grandpa. I've never met my real grandpa, mom says he's in a mental hospital. My family's so screwed up. Jack is my uncle, but I don't call him Uncle Jack because he's only 2 years older than I am.
Everyone said the usual hi, how are you, you've grown so much, blah, blah, blah. Then we went into the house. It was small, smaller than our condo, but it had a neat, homely sense, it was nice.
"So what grade are you two in now?" Spike asked us, trying to make small talk.
"Ninth," Chrissy answered, sipping the iced tea, Spike gave her.
"Wow," Spike answered. It was always like this. We'd never had a normal relationship with our grandparents. We rarely saw each other or talked on the phone. Spike always tried to make conversation with us though. "Won't you have any tea, Anna?" Spike asked. Sometimes I wondered if she remembered my name.
"No thanks," I replied. I always had to make sure to be polite around my grandparents. My mom made me. I think she was afraid that they'd think Chrissy and I were some big mistake, or something. "I don't like tea. Do you have any Gatorade, though?" I added.
Spike went to the fridge and got a Gatorade for me. "Thank you," I said, and I took the bottle, and began drinking it. Mom and Spike got into a conversation about SITE, then I heard my name.
"So will you and the girls be staying here?" Spike asked, she sounded rather hopeful. I think my mom noticed this, too because she I heard a bit of guilt in her voice.
"No, we got a room at the Raddison," my mom answered.
"Oh," Spike replied, with a hint of disappointment in her voice. Then we heard a knock on the door. Snake answered the door. There was a boy that looked about my mom's age standing there. I heard a gasp from my mom, and she looked like he was about to faint.
"What's he doing here?" mom hissed through her teeth.
"He's here to fix the car," Spike answered, she looked rather worried. "He owns a string of auto shops. Maybe you saw them? Hogart's Auto Shop?" All three of us nodded, and that Hogart dude stepped into the living room.
"Emma?" he asked, surprised. How did this guy know my mom?
"Jay," my mom replied coldly. My mom must not like him. I don't know why. She never mentioned a Jay Hogart to us. Wait, yes she did, she said he was the guy that broke her and her first love up. No wonder she didn't like him. He is kind of cute though. I remember finding a picture of him in mom's night stand once when I was looking for some candy that my mom hid.
"I can't believe you're here!" Jay exclaimed. He seems much more excited to see my mom, than my mom does to see him.
"Neither can I," my mom replied dryly. Then there was silence. I hate silence, especially tense silence, and you could cut the tension in here with a knife. Then Jay spoke again.
"So who are these two lovely young ladies?" he asked. Chrissy blushed, slightly. She always blushes whenever any remotely cute guy pays attention to her. Just then I noticed my mom's face looked suddenly tense and nervous. It paled and she began to stuttered.
"W-well, y-you s-see, this, um, is, uh Annabelle—," she started.
"Anna," I interrupted, annoyed.
"R-right," my mom said. "And this is uh, is um, Christina, but we call her Chrissy, andthey'remydaughters." My mom said that last part really fast, and no one could understand her.
"What?" Jay asked. He had this confused look on his face.
"Th-th-they're m-my d-d-dmalfansers," my mom mumbled. Why did she not want to say that we're her daughters?
"What!" Jay asked, he was clearly annoyed.
"Daughters!" my mom shouted. "They're my daughters! Okay?"
Jay suddenly looked rather sad. "Oh, so you're m-married?" he asked in a small voice.
"No," my mom answered.
Suddenly Jay started laughing. What an ass. "Woah, I would've never thought that Green Peace, out of all people would have a child out of wedlock!" he laughed.
"Green Peace?" Chrissy asked.
"So who's the father?" Jay asked once he stopped laughing. This question brought attention to everyone in the room. Snake fell down the remaining steps on which he was standing. Chrissy put her tea down and looked at mom. Jack dropped his gameboy. Spike dropped the plate she was holding, causing it to shatter into hundreds of tiny pieces, but instead of picking it up, she focused all her attention to my mom. My mom's face drained of all the blood. I was already watching this conversation, so I did nothing but straighten up. Jay noticed all this, and he suddenly looked very confused.
"So who's the father?" Jay repeated.
"You are," my mom said quietly. Was I thinking my dad was cute?
A/N It's not going to be completely a one shot. Next chapter is going to be 3rd person point of view. Please review, it keeps me writing.