Okay guys so here's the next one! Maybe it wasn't posted just a few minutes after the last update, but I have a very logical reason for that. When I promised you that, I had already thought that this chapter was finished! Guess what? It wasn't even close. So I worked on it until really late last night and then a little bit more today and viola! Here it is! This one is a lot longer than I anticipated, so I guess that's why the chapter cuts off pretty abruptly. I had originally intended the party to start in this chapter, but I guess not. So sorry about that one.
Haha, now that I've probably hurt your brain with my little rant, you can move on to the next chapter of Jealousy! Woo hoo! (:
Don't forget to 'Review This Chapter' when you've finished!

- Tweedlebugqueen

Jealousy

Chapter Four: Anticipation

It was three days to the party, and Gray never failed to mention how 'stoked' he was for it. Well, I didn't really know what that meant, but I figured it meant something along the lines of excited, which was a good thing.

I was honestly excited too, this would be the first party that I had been to that was for me. Usually I got invited to one or two parties a year in Mineral Town, but it was always more fun when the party was in your honor, rather than in someone else's.

I noticed that my parents were acting strangely around me lately, maybe it was the fact that in a year I could possibly be leaving home for good. I doubted that though, I was far too dependent on them to make it out on my own so soon. But there was that strange feeling inside of me, the one that told me I was in between a child and an adult. Last year, I was granted permission to finally date, and if I had been in the city, I would have been able to learn how to drive. Now that I was turning seventeen, I was a year away from being legally an adult. I was in that awkward in-between stage. Gray . . . he was already an adult. He was turning nineteen! He had been an adult for a year now.

Despite the fact that our party was neither on mine or Gray's actual birthday, we had decided to celebrate those days too. On the sixth of winter I had run to the Inn to buy Gray lunch. Gray, Ann, and I had all gone on an outing to the beach (though it was winter, so no swimming ensued) to fish. Once again, I was surprised by Gray. I had no idea how much he enjoyed fishing. He told me that it was one of his favorite past times. It just seemed like he never ceased to amaze me.

He had to teach me how to fish, but Ann knew how to pretty well. She wasn't particularly good at it. We found that out when she didn't catch more than one or two herring, both being less than seven centimeters long. At least she knew how to do it though. Gray spent nearly an hour and a half teaching me how to hold the fishing rod before we could actually begin. It was well worth the lesson though when I caught four large fish and we all had a hearty supper that night.

It seemed that Gray was impatient for the party. I wished I could say as much for myself. I still hoped that something would happen between us when the night came, so it was possible that I was even more restless than he was, which was hardly believable.

"Can you believe that the party is tomorrow?" he asked me the day before the party.

We were lounging in his room, he was on his bed and I was laying on the floor. This is how we spent most of the winter days together, just hanging around with each other inside one of our houses or the library. It was a thursday evening, so Gray hadn't had work that day, and I had closed the library early so I could prepare for the party.

We were having the party in the dining room downstairs. Doug had already given us permission, and we were both very happy about it. He had also promised Gray that there would be no gate-crashers at the party, it was one of my father's concerns about the location. The Inn was reserved just for us, and my parents had surprises for the both of us (Gray and I). Life really was going well for me.

Gray and I kept each other company for a few more hours, talking about anything and everything. We talked about random things like our memories, our families, etc. After a while we both decided that we should both get some rest so that we wouldn't be too tired to set up and have the party the next day.

He walked me home, and we were on my porch by nine thirty. We bid each other farewell, and Gray bent close down to me (he was considerably taller than my five feet six inches). My heart started racing in my chest. Was this . . . ?

I was once again disappointed when it turned out to only be a hug. But I embraced him as forcefully as I could, never wanting to let go. I suspected he didn't really feel it though, since he was strong and had huge muscles, and I, well I was weak.

"Tonight was fun, Mary. We really need to just hang out more often," he beamed at me. "Really, I mean it."

"I agree." I said.

He just smiled at me.

"It's dark outside."

I looked up at the stars above us, "So it is. The view is beautiful tonight." I mused.

"Yes it is." he said.

I looked down at him to find him staring at me and blushed. Had he just . . . ?

"Well, good night Mary!" he called over his shoulder as he walked back towards the Inn. He waved to me on his way.

"See you tomorrow!" I called back to him, before retreating into my house.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" my father said from where he sat at the dining room table. He had a steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hand and my novel in front of him.

"No reason," I replied, "is there any more of that?" I asked, pointing to his mug.

"Yes, it's on the stove." he replied.

I walked the short distance to the cupboard and pulled out my favorite mug, placing it on the counter and filling it up with my father's hot chocolate. "Is mum asleep?" I asked absentmindedly as I sat down beside him.

"Yes," he answered, "she's been exhausted lately."

"I can't imagine why."

He looked at me over his reading glasses. "Me either. If it doesn't get any better I'm going to have to make an appointment with Doctor Trent about it."

"I'm sure it won't come to that." I assured him.

He grunted to show that he had heard me as he turned back to the book in front of him. I noticed that he had read a fairly good amount of it. "So are you liking the book?" I asked.

He looked up at me, obviously annoyed. "Yes. It is very good. I am really enjoying it. I would like to get back to reading it now if that is at all possible."

I suppressed the urge to laugh, "I'm sorry. I'll let you get back to reading it now."

"Thank you." he replied haughtily as he turned back to his reading.

I rolled my eyes dramatically at him when I was sure he was no longer paying me any attention. When I finished my hot chocolate I went to the sink and rinsed out my mug. After seeing my father shift in his chair, I could tell that he wanted me to leave so that he could enjoy my book in peace and quiet.

My father didn't usually pay any attention to my writings, but when my mother stressed to him how important it was for a father to show some love for his daughter, he had demanded to read my novel. It hadn't at all been awkward for me to hand it over to him, it wasn't as if I had written anything inappropriate for him or anyone else I knew to read. I think he expected me to be at least a little embarassed that it was a romance novel, but I hadn't been. I think that had impressed him quite a bit.

Looking around the room I could tell that he had been reading for quite some time. All of his plant encyclopedias looked as if they hadn't been touched that day and his field journals were in the same places that they had been when I had left for work that morning. It did surprise me that my father had devoted the entire day to reading my manuscript instead of to his work, but I was also very . . . touched. My father had gone from having very little interest in anything that I had ever written, to dropping a full day of work just so that he could read my first completed novel.

The only thing that had me concerned was that he had been reading in low light. There was no way that I would ever point out to him that this could damage your eyes though, and run the risk of him putting my book down once and for all. So on my way up to my room, I turned on the lamp over the sink and one over the stairs. I climbed the stairs feeling much better knowing that he was reading to more than just a candle on the table.

As I passed my mother and father's room I wondered what had been exhausting my mother lately. She was a stay at home wife who held cooking classes on Saturday mornings and walked to the town square only once a day to talk with her girlfriends. Other than that, my mother put forth little physical activity except for needlepoint and housework. It concerned me that she was nearly always exhausted lately when she did so little to be exhausted from. Maybe my father was right in calling Doctor Trent. I made a mental note not to let her get too carried away in mine and Gray's party tomorrow, I couldn't allow her to overwork herself. All she really needed to worry about was the cake.

I layed in bed, staring at the ceiling. Obviously, I immediately began thinking about Gray and the party the next day.

Darkness was all I saw. It was quiet and peaceful in my room, but it was extremely dim in here. Then I remembered to open my eyes.

I hadn't realized that I had fallen asleep until I looked at my alarm clock and it said ten oh two in the morning. My mother must have let me sleep in. Either that or she hadn't woken up. Or I had just not heard her when she came in to remind me to open up the library.

At the thought of the library I jumped out of bed. I had overslept! Why in the world had my alarm not gone off?

I ran to my dresser and nearly yanked the drawers out of it as I hurried to collect my clothes for the day. I didn't even need to worry about grabbing two different socks because of the little amount of sunlight peering through the curtains in my window.

I stopped for a second. Why were my curtains drawn? I always kept them open. That was extremely unusual. I only paused for a moment though, deciding that the curtains honestly weren't that big of a deal.

After brushing my stick-straight hair and deciding that a ponytail was much too much labor for this morning, I threw open my bedroom door and ran into the hallway.

"Oomf!"

I had run into something, a warm something, something that nearly toppled over just as I had only a second before.

"You should be more careful to watch where you're hurrying Mary!" my mother chastised me.

Picking up my glasses and pushing them back up my nose I grunted.

Her bunny slippered foot began to tap in annoyance.

"I'm sorry mother, I overslept." I apologized, "I need to go and open the library before someone shows up!"

"It's friday, who on Earth would show up today?"

I scrambled to my feet, not even realizing how angry that remark made me until my nostrils flared.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Gray will come today." I insisted, "I need to open the library."

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the air, scoffing at me, "You and that library. Books, books, books, that's all you care about. You need to get your head out of the clouds, Mary and you need to start worrying about more important things than fantasy."

Now that did it.

"How else are we supposed to buy food on mondays? Father barely makes enough money to buy three bags of flour, let alone to pay for our weekly groceries! My library helps keep food on the table! I help provide for our family! It might not be much, but at least it's enough to help us get by!"

She looked at me as if I had just spewed out the longest stream of swear words known to man.

If my father had been there, he would have slapped me across the face for speaking to my mother that way. I would have been told to close the library for a long weekend and that I was to sit in my room and think about what I had done. Her being weak and ill wouldn't have improved the punishment either. He would have been disgusted and ashamed of me for speaking to her like that. It wasn't the way they had raised me. It wasn't the way that sweet, soft-spoken Mary was supposed to react.

But the more that I thought about it, the more I felt justified in what I had said. Here comes my mother in her fuzzy bunny slippers, pink pajama pants, and her green robe telling me that my dreams weren't important, that they were silly even. I had every right to stand up for myself. She might not be feeling well, and I might have just barrelled into her, but she had absolutely no right to speak to me like that. Even if she was the mother and I was the daughter. I respected her, she should at least have the sanity to realize that I deserved respect too.

"Actually honey, your father has tripled our monthly income now that he has been selling the herbs he's found on the Mother's Hill to the doctor. He has really been working hard so that we can live with more luxury, and I would appreciate it if you would give him more credit than you do yourself."

I felt all of my anger slowly slither out of me. My mother was defending my father, and she was being soft about it. She no longer held that angry tone of voice with me that she had used only moments ago. It made me feel ashamed of myself. Of course that didn't change the fact that it was wrong of her to aim a shot at my dream, but she had been irritated with me, and I hadn't even apologized to her for nearly knocking her down the stairs when she was already ill.

Suddenly I barrelled into her again, but softly this time. My arms wound themselves around her arms and my head rested upon her shoulder, I was hugging her.

"I shouldn't have spoken to you that way, I am so sorry. Not only for that, but for not apologizing when I ran into you. I know you haven't felt well lately and I know that I need to give you some credit. I mean, you've raised me for nearly seventeen years with little help from father, who has been devoting his life to his career so that he can put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads. I acted like an ungrateful little heathen for raising my voice at you and I hope that you'll find it in your heart to put it past us." I released my hold on her a little bit, realizing that I might have been squeezing her too hard.

It didn't matter though, because my mother put her arms around me as well and tightened her grip just as I had,

"That's quite alright dear, you thought you were late for work and you were just trying to open the library so that Gray could come and read more of those stories that you seem to have cooped up in there. You really are a brilliant daughter and I do not think that you need to get your head out of the clouds when it is already so firmly placed on your shoulders and down on Earth where it belongs. I am sorry that I practically told you that you were living in a fantasy, that was very rude and very wrong of me."

She released me then, and smiled, "I really enjoyed your novel too, sweetie."

I felt the blush showing on my cheeks and a sense of relief washing over me. "Thank you mothe- Did I just hear you say that I thought I was late for work?"

She blushed then too and said, "Yes, I took the liberty of giving you the day off. Happy birthday." she smiled.

"You turned off my alarm?" I asked.

She nodded.

"You pulled my curtains closed?"

She nodded again.

"You gave me the opportunity to sleep in for once in my life and I jumped out of bed and got dressed anyway?" I asked, annoyed with myself now.

She nodded a third time, "It appears so," she said, "but you can run along and crawl back into that warm and cozy bed of yours for another hour if you want." she offered.

I stared back inito my room longingly, but decided against sleeping any longer. "No," I sighed, "I've already slept in as it is, what's the point of going back to sleep when I'm already up and dressed?"

She shrugged her shoulders at me and made her way back towards her room.

Despite the fact that my mother and I had gotten into a spat, I had a strange feeling that today was going to be a great day.

A/N: Okay, so there it is! The fourth chapter of Jealousy! Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you absolutely HATE it? Hopefully not. That would make me sad.
I can honestly say that this chapter took me hours to write. It really should only take you a second or two to leave a review. If you want to make me REALLY happy, it could take you a minute or two and you could leave a long review! Yeah?
I didn't think so either. Especially since no one reviewed the last chapter either.
Well I don't blame you if you're mad at me, but at least I didn't cut you off for a few months at a really dramatic moment like this one author I know who has done that to me and four hundred other readers . . . but that's a whole different genre, story, scene, WHATEVER you want to call it! (:
So . . . thanks for reading!
Review, review, review! Review, review, review! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! *Does a rain-like review dance.*
Hopefully that worked.
Okay, I guess I'll update as soon as I can! Thanks guys!

- Tweedlebugqueen