AUTHORS NOTE: OKAY, I KNOW PLEASE DON'T BE MAD AT ME. IT'S FINALLY HERE THOUGH. . .YAY?
CHAPTER NINE: ALMOST THERE- SORT-OF
Logan and I had to get along. Well, not so much had to as needed to. We could get along; I just think we are taking our stress out on each other.
It was obvious we where putting off telling my grandparents everything, epically after my dad not taking things well, but we had to tell them, it was the right thing to do. Logan of course wanted to make sure that I was okay with everything and that I was feeling okay. Ever since our fight he always wanted to make sure he wasn't offending me or anything. The thought was sweet, but otherwise he was kind-of getting on my nerves.
"Ace, are you ready?" I was in the closet debating which dress I should wear when he called out to me.
"Me? Ready? Not even close."
"Ace come on! We have to go, like ten minutes ago."
"Patience," I muttered choosing the black dress and quickly sliding it over my head. "I'm decent."
"Decent?" He whispered brushing a hair out of my face and carefully "wrong, you're beautiful."
I blushed and looked at my feet. He took his finger and lightly lifted my chin, he smiled lightly before carefully placing his hands on either side of his face and pressing his lips against mine.
"We should go," I said biting my lip. We talked about completely random things as he walked me to the car, and throughout the car ride it was the same worthless small talk.
Pulling into Emily and Richards driveway I realized my mother was already there, waiting casually by her car.
"Mom!"
"Hey sweetie," she said to me "hi Logan," she said to him just as politely.
"Hi Lorelai," he murmured offering his hand which my mother took shaking it carefully.
"We should get inside," I walked towards the door which suddenly seemed very large, creepy. Logan came up and took my hand.
"Ready?" Mom asked and pushed the doorbell.
AUTHORS NOTE: SORRY SORRY SORRY! I ONLY WROTE A LITTLE, AND I KNOW THIS IS GOING TO BE A REALLY STUPID ANSWER TO WHY BUT HERE IT IS: I HAVE A LIFE, I AM BUSY. I PROMISE. . .I SWEAR TO WRITE MORE SOON, JUST TRUST ME ON THAT.
P.S. SORRY AGAIN AND UM, UM, UM, UM. YEAH I AM SMART, THIS SHOWS WHY NOT TO WATCH T.V. AND TYPE AT THE SAME TIME. . .I FORGOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO WRITE AND NOW I AM RAMBELING, BLAH, BLAH, BALH. . . . . . . . . .