Sorry, guys. I haven't posted in FOREVERZ.
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I unpacked my laptop and booted it up. I logged in to check my email and Emily IMed me.
"'Mandy?"
"Hey." I responded.
"So...didja get anything?" she asked.
"Yup. A novel and a sketchpad. Just what I expected. How's your dad?"
"Okay. He's taking us all out for ice cream as soon as he gets unpacked."
"*Sigh*"
"?"
"Nothing. You just have an awesome family, that's all. You're all "yay, ice cream and happiness," while we're basically just fighting all the time."
"Amanda, that's not true. We DEFINITELY have our troubles."
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"Like what? Arguing over who has to walk the dog?"
"Well... Yeah. Frankly, Amanda, you have it pretty bad. It could definitely be worse, but my life's a cakewalk compared to yours. And I'm really sorry. But all I can really do is be there for you. Isn't that enough?"
"Of COURSE it's enough, em, you're AMAZING. I dunno what I'd do without you."
""
" right back at you!"
I grabbed my new sketchbook and my favorite pencil out of the drawer in my bedside table. Flipping to the first page, I tapped out "Just a minute. I'mma drawing something." and sent it to Emily.
I had almost finished the hair on my picture of Emily when she replied.
"Can we skype? I wanna see what you're drawing."
"Sure." I replied, and opened Skype.
"You there?" I heard Emily's voice though my laptop's tiny speakers.
"Yup," I clicked "Start my video" and a small box showing my face appeared next to Emily's smiling one.
"Lemme see what you're drawing." she pleaded, but I shook my head.
"When it's done." I turned back to the sketch, and drew eyes, a mouth, and a nose. I finished the neck, shoulders, and torso, and began shading the face and shirt.
"Come on!" begged Emily, but I continued to shake my head. I drew part of an arm, then started on the body of the other person.
When I was finally finished, I turned the sketchbook to face my webcam, letting Emily see my drawing. It was of the two of us, arms linked and heads bonking. Her long, silky hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, while my short, red hair was in messy pigtails.
"It's amazing." she gasped. "I wish I could draw like that."
"You could if you practiced." I put down the sketchbook. "You're pretty good, just afraid to draw. Besides, I'm not very good myself."
"Yes, you-- What?" she called to her bedroom door, responding to a voice I couldn't hear. "Okay! I have to go." She turned back to me and waved.
"Bye." I waved back, then closed the window.
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I sighed and touched up the shading on my drawing. Then I went over to my desk, opened one of the drawers, and retrieved my favorite set of colored pencils, which I had only used twice. I went back to my bed and sat down, opening the box. I breathed in the fresh, addicting aroma of bare wood. Selecting a vibrant red, I colored in my hair, then searched for a brown to tint it.
I must have been coloring for a long time, because when I looked up, my alarm clock said 3:30. I got up and stretched, then realized I needed to go to the bathroom. I decided to use the one downstairs, my legs could use it.
Once I had finished, I grabbed some Q-tips to clean my ears. I opened the cabinet under the sink to throw them away, when I saw it. Or them, I suppose. At least half a dozen pregnancy tests, all positive. Oh, god, oh, god! I tried desperately to think of whose they could be, besides the obvious answer. My mother's friend had come over a few days ago, she might've used the bathroom...and taken pregnancy tests in it. Oh, PLEASE let this be a practical joke. I thought.
I knew this had to be dealt with. I carefully grabbed the sticks, and wrapped them in a wad of toilet paper. Then I stomped into the living room, the package at arm's length.
"Care to explain these?" I asked, tossing then onto the table in front of my parents.
"What... Oh, my god." my mother put her hands to her mouth.
"Jeanie?" my dad reached out to take one of the sticks. "What? Augh!" he dropped it on the floor, then stared at my mother. "But we haven't-- I've been on the couch-- Who is it?" he thundered, standing up to his full height and staring down my mother.
"I-- I was going to... Amanda, please leave." she pointed in the general direction of my room.
"No." I spoke with such force that even my furious father turned to look at me in amazement. "I will not leave until you tell me exactly what is going on here, and I swear, if you are not truthful to the letter, I will go and live with Emily, or I will live on the streets, because if what I think is going on here is, I have no mother." My voice shook with rage, and even my six foot tall father seemed small.
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