A/N--So I'm not all that happy with this chapter, I feel like it could have been written much better.  But I'm in a hurry to get this out and get this story finished, so...here it is anyways!! 

---> Pic is of Zara!

Please comment/vote/fan/do what you do!

The moment that my eyes fall upon my mom, an array of anger, hurt, and the urge to just jump into her arms and cry, swells up inside of me. It's been so long since I've talked to her, and even longer since I've seen her face.  

But I'm not going to jump into her arms and cry even though there's a very potent part of me that wants to. Although she's not the best at it, she is still my mom and she still makes me feel really good when she holds me. I'm not going to give her that kind of satisfaction, though. I'm not going to act like everything's fine and dandy when it's really not. I'm not going to act like I'm so thrilled that she's here so I'm just going to forget what she did. 

She fled town when she knew that I'd need her. Instead of doing the selfless, right thing and coming to me when my dad committed suicide so that we could lean on each other and help each other through, she did the selfish thing and escaped to my aunt's in another state so that she wouldn't have to deal with the aftershocks in the same house. 

She should have called me, or explained things to me, or at least given me a goddamn hug before she left. Her leaving me in this town with absolutely no one-she didn't know I was friends with Lucas again-is probably the worst thing she's ever done to me. 

So I'm not going to just forget it ever happened because I'm happy to see her. 

"What are you doing here?" I ask her sternly, that urge to hug her fading the moment that I cross my arms over my chest. 

A short blonde piece of her bang hair falls in front of her puffy eyes and as she pushes it back behind her ear she says, "I came to see you, to talk to you." 

Irritated that she's not jumping to apologies for leaving me alone, I say, "Well I don't exactly want to talk to you right now, so if you could please just..." 

She cuts me off and says, "Look Naomi, I know that what I did was wrong." 

"It sure as hell was!" I pretty much shout, looking at her and wondering why she doesn't look any guiltier. She's supposed to feel awful for leaving me alone, she's not supposed to be apologizing just so that I'll talk to her. 

She tightens her grip onto the purse strap that's slung across her shoulder and says firmly, "I'm not going to stand here and have my daughter yell at me, alright? Look...I'm sorry I left, but I have my reasons." 

"No reason is good enough for just abandoning me like that," I say, my voice now more sad and hurt then angry like it was two seconds ago. 

She nods once and says, "I know that and I'm sorry for what I did. So how about I take you to iHop and we talk things through?" 

"I'll go," I say, "But not because you want me to. I'm only going to go because I'm hungry and because I don't want to be in this house any longer." 

Not when I know Lucas is sitting on the top stair of the stair well, his elbows pressed to his knees and holding up his head as he watches my mom and I's conversation. That's how he always eavesdrops. And it's not that I'm mad that he's listening in on our conversation-no, I'm pretty much used to that. I just can't be around him anymore...not after that kiss.  

Nodding her head briskly once more, she tells me, "I'll be in the car," and then turns around and heads on down the porch stairs. 

I shut the door behind her, but don't turn around immediately. Instead I take a step forward and lean my head against the warm wood of the door, taking in a deep breath to calm down my completely shaken up emotions. So much has happened tonight, is still happening, and I don't know how I haven't passed out from the intensity of it yet. 

When the first breath doesn't completely work, I breathe in one more and then feel my heart start to cool down, no longer feeling like it's in some kind of triathlon. 

Once I feel okay enough to get up the stairs, I open my eyes and then take a step away from the door. When I turn around, though, and see that Lucas is still sitting in that position on the top step and watching me with completely unreadable eyes, I know that I'm not going to be able to take a step forward. 

Even though so much is going on with my mom at the moment, I still can't help but look at him and feel this hollowed out pain in the pit of my stomach. I feel so, so guilty and hurt and confused that I don't know how I'm supposed to go about handling it. I've just made out with this guy, with this guy who has a girlfriend that he's already ditched me for, and who also just so happens to be my best and only friend. 

"Nay?" I hear his voice only faintly, seeing as how he is quite a distance away and how I can hear my blood pumping in my ears. 

Ignoring how warm my body starts to feel at the sound of his voice, I ask, "What?" 

He lets out a deep sigh and then runs his fingers through his hair, making a flashback of me doing just the same thing to him minutes ago pop up into my head. Awesome. Now I'm confused, hurt, and just a bit turned on.  

He says, "You know we need to talk." 

I nod grimly, smart enough to know that the odds of that conversation turning out in my favor are slim to none. I know that that conversation is probably only going to hurt me in the end, and that our newly rekindled friendship is probably going to take a major hit because of it. 

I say, "I'm going to go eat with my mom, and then we can talk when I get back." 

He nods understandingly, but, judging from the expression on his face, I can tell that he's disappointed that we're not going to settle this any sooner. He says, "Good." 

That conversation is going to be the death of me, I swear. 

oOoOo 

"I'll have the waffle combo, please," I tell the waitress about twenty minutes later. My mom and I are sitting in one of the booths towards the back, as was her request, and we haven't said much of anything to each other since we've been here. I'm far too angry with her to say anything, and I know that she's not excited for this talk either. 

The waitress smiles at us and says, "I'll be right back with your orders," and then after she takes the menus off of our table, she exits the main dining room and disappears into the kitchen. 

Once she's gone, I lean forward and take a swig of my soda, not wanting to start the conversation. She's the one who brought me here; she should have to make the first move, not me. I'm not the one who practically abandoned their daughter during probably the hardest time in her life. No, that was my mom. 

My mom's quiet for a few moments, also being stubborn and not wanting to say anything, but when she realizes that I'm not going to be my normal snappy self, she sighs and says, "Naomi...we need to...we need to talk about what happened." 

I feel a bit of pity for her when I hear the sadness in her voice, and it's then that I realize that she did lose her husband. While their relationship was nowhere close to perfect, they were madly in love with each other at one point. She felt for him what I feel for Lucas now, and I can't even fathom the thought of losing him. While he treats me nothing like how horribly my dad treated my mom, I know that she did love him. It's why she never left him. 

So I understand why she's having such a hard time talking about his suicide. But...even though I understand, I still resent her. Maybe she did lose her husband, but she didn't lose her daughter. Yet, she treated me like I didn't even exist. She didn't call to ask how I was, and she barely even told Lucas' mom where she was. That's not what a mom is supposed to do, even if she did walk in on her husband's body. 

She's still supposed to be a mom. 

Right? 

I nod and say, "I know." 

Leaning forward, she rests her elbow on the edge of the table and then runs her fingers through her blonde bangs. This a nervous habit of hers, I know that it is, and it makes me feel just a bit better that she's nervous too. At least she cares about my being mad at her. She says, "Naomi...I have no idea what to say, I really don't. Your father...your father...he wasn't...good God," she cuts off, and then I notice her lean her head back and I don't have to look to know that she's doing it to keep tears from falling. 

Feeling a pain in my stomach-no matter how mad someone is, it's hard to see their mom cry-I say, "Mom...I may be mad at you for leaving...but I guess I can understand why you did it. You loved dad, no matter how crazy he was. I just...I just wish that you didn't leave me. I really needed you." 

And to my horror, tears start falling down my cheeks the moment that I say this. 

When she hears the catch in my voice and realizes that I'm crying, she brings her face back and I can see the tears that match mine so perfectly. She says, "Sweetie, I'm so sorry. I really am. I have no excuses for leaving, so I'm not going to give you any. I just want you to know that I do love you...I really do. I know that it may not seem like it, but you're my daughter. I just...I haven't been doing my job as a mom. But I'm going to work on that, I promise." 

"Okay," I mumble, trying without avail to wipe the wet tear streaks off of my blushing cheeks. Even though there isn't anyone around to see my little meltdown, I'm still having one in the middle of iHop. It's just a bit mortifying. 

She reaches forward with one of her hands and grabs mine, squeezing it hard with the comfort that I really, really need right now. She says, "I'm sorry honey, I really am." 

I nod jerkily, but the motion really does nothing except make the little tears run down my cheeks even faster. I tell her, "I get that, but I don't know...I don't know if I can forgive you. You left me. My dad committed suicide and my other parent just abandoned me? I may be a legal adult and whatnot, but I still need my parents. One's gone forever, and you leave too?" 

She says, "I know. What I did was so wrong and I..." 

I cut her off, sick of hearing her just telling me how wrong she was. I'm glad that she knows what she did was wrong, but that's not going to help me. She still did it, whether she knew it was wrong or not. And hell, her knowing it was wrong and doing it anyways just makes it worse! She knew she was hurting me the entire time she left, but she did it anyways. 

Nice to know how much she truly cares for me. 

When I cut her off, I say, "It was, mom. It was really wrong. I had to unload on Lucas' family and he and I had just become friends again! Thank God his family is so much better than ours, or else I would have been up a creek and you never would have known. But it's not like you truly care..." 

This time she cuts me off, and the anger I see blazing in her eyes shows me that maybe I shouldn't have said what I did. But I really don't care. I said what I was feeling and it's her job to listen to how I'm feeling. Although she's doing a pretty shitty job at it, she's still my mother and she should still care for me. She says sternly, "Naomi you shut your mouth. I know what I did was wrong, but I'm still your mom and you have no right to talk to me that way." 

"Maybe I'd treat you like a mom if you actually treated me like a daughter," I say coldly, the tears no longer running down my face. I'm not sad anymore. No, I'm pretty much numb now. She's heard all I have to say to her and she can't reply with anything but a scolding for me not respecting her. But she's given me nothing to respect. 

So that's why I tell her, "I'll call you tomorrow," and then head out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. 

oOoOo 

"I'm so sorry for imposing, Zara...I just didn't know who else to call," I tell her apologetically as I stand behind her and watch as she digs in her hallway closet for extra blankets and pillows.  

As she rises on her tip toes to reach a fluffy looking Aztec-print blanket from the top shelf, she tells me, "You're not imposing at all, hon. I promise. It gets kind of lonely here anyways." 

Any other person would ask me why I didn't call my best friend, the person whose house I've been crashing at for the past two weeks anyways, but not Zara. I am eternally grateful for that. She's never been one to dig for gossip and that's one of the traits I've always admired about her. She knows that I'll talk when I'm ready and she's more than willing to wait for that. 

She turns around and after handing me a pile of linens taller than my chest, she closes the door to the closet and says, "And I'm sorry I can only offer you the couch. It's pretty comfortable though, my little brother's always crashing on it." 

"Thanks a lot, Zara. I owe you for this," I say, so beyond grateful that she was willing to leave whatever it was that she was doing to come and pick me up at iHop. She was there ten minutes after I'd called her, not even giving my mom time to finish her meal inside. 

And yeah, you heard me right. Even after her daughter stormed out of the restaurant saying that their relationship was pretty much screwed, she didn't come after her. Nope, instead she stayed inside and ate her meal in peace. 

I think that's what stings the most. 

Zara disappears into her bedroom just a few minutes later, after she made herself some nighttime tea and then poured me a glass of ice water. After I slip into some pajamas that she leant me, I snuggle into the covers and then close my eyes, but even I'm not going to fool myself into thinking I'm going to fall right asleep. 

No, I know that for tonight, sleep is going to be a huge struggle. Not only is it the first night in almost two weeks that I'm not sleeping with Lucas in the guest room's big, comfy bed, but I also have so much emotional turmoil going on in me that I'd lose sleep over anyways. It's going to be a difficult night; that much is for sure. 

But I couldn't bring myself to call Lucas once I'd gone out into the parking lot. I'd gotten my phone out, I'd even gone to his number and almost pressed the call button, but my heart just wouldn't let me. I know that I promised I'd talk to him about this whole mess, but I just can't bring myself to have that conversation with him. Not only am I emotionally exhausted and can probably veg out for a month, but I'm terrified. 

I'm terrified that he's going to tell me it was a mistake; that he's going to end our newly rekindled friendship because it's so completely obvious that I'm in love with him again. I'm terrified that he's going to run back to Destiny like he did two years ago and that I'm once again going to be reduced to a fleck of dust in his mind. 

I'm scared out of my ever-loving mind. 

And for right now, I'm too upset with the deal with my mom and too tired to put myself through anything else.  

But the moment that I think this, I hear my phone buzz from its position on the floor, right next to the sofa. Though I know better, I peer over and see that it's a text from Lucas. Feeling my heart give a loud and almost painful thud against my chest, I reach down and then pull the phone up to where I can actually read the small text. 

How are things? What time do you think you'll be back? 

Feeling overwhelmingly guilty for letting him think that I'm still with my mom and that my plans are still to go to his house, I know that I have to text him back.  

Things went bad really fast, I called Zara to come and pick me up. 

His reply is almost immediate. 

So you're staying there tonight. 

The fact that it's not even a question makes me feel even worse. He knows the reason why I'm staying here instead of there. It's because of him. And I know that he's going to feel really bad because of it. 

I'm sorry, but I just need to give my mind a rest tonight. I'll talk to you tomorrow? 

It's the only thing I can think of to say.  

I'm going to miss my sleeping buddy. 

I can't help but smile at this.  

He's always known just the right thing to say. 

I miss you too. I'm going to sleep Luc, see you tomorrow. 

And I do miss him. So, so much. I'm used to being able to feel his heat practically radiate from his body. Without him here I feel so cold and drafty and I hate it. 

Sweet dreams, Nay.