Chapter 19

Trent waving his hand in front of my face made me snap back to reality. I hadn't realized that I was frozen in place, mouth agape. I'd obviously been pretty far gone, though. My father had come into the room since I was last aware of my surroundings.

I ignored the warning squeeze my brother gave my shoulder. "So," I placed my hands on my waist. "Did you guys get lost or something?"

"What are you guys doing here?" Trent cut in. It was hard to determine whether he was angry or happy that our so-called 'parents' had decided to pay a visit; his voice was completely monotonous.

"Please, hear us out." Mom raised her hands pleadingly.

I opened my mouth, about to demonstrate to her my ability to curse like a sailor, when Trent cut in again.

"Go on then." He prompted.

"You've got five minutes." I added warningly.

"Do not talk to your mother that way." My father's strict voice sounded for the first time since he got here.

I folded my arms. "And how exactly should I talk to her, Dad?" I spat out the word. "You left us. You just up and left, and now you expect us to welcome you back with open arms? Sorry, but that's not the way it works."

"Rose—" Trent tried to calm me down.

"Don't 'Rose' me. You know that I'm right."

He didn't contradict me. "They're our parents."

"Screw that." I scoffed. "I'll talk to them however I want to." I turned to face Mom and Dad. "You guys may be the ones who made us, but you will never be our parents. You lost that right the moment you ditched."

Then I ran back up the stairs, trying to ignore the sting in my eyes.

***

I was wallowing with the help of Miley Cyrus when someone knocked on my bedroom door. I groaned and pulled my headphones out, already knowing who it was.

"Go away, Trent." I advised. "I'm really not in the mood right now."

The incessant knocking continued long enough for me to realize that it wasn't going to stop any time soon. I groaned even louder and pushed myself off the bed, flinging the door open.

"Trent, I already told you—" I stopped myself as my mother came into view. I felt my mouth twist into something that felt extremely similar to a sneer. "What do you want?"

"For you to hear me out," she answered gently, face soft. "Please. I know you're mad at us, but I need you to hear me out."

I narrowed my eyes. "Fine, make it quick."

"Your dad and I, we'd always wanted to see the world. We'd had it planned since, well, forever. Yes, it's true. You and Trent did slow us down but—"

"Wow, look at that." I tapped my watch. "Time's up."

I threw the door back into its frame, only for it to be stopped by something- heels, to be exact. The heel was followed by a hand, pushing the door back open.

My mom came back into sight. "Rosaline, you have to listen to me."

"No, Mom. I don't think I do. And it's Rose okay? Not Rosaline- Rose. Maybe you would have known that if you'd done more than send the occasional postcard or come back for a visit. How long can travelling the world take anyway? I mean, come on, it isn't all that big is it? If you and Dad didn't want to be tied down, having kids sure wasn't the way to go about it. Really, I learned 'no glove, no love' when I was twelve. You guys are like fifty so there isn't any excuse; a little bit of latex could have saved you all that trouble. It'd be nice if you just shut the fuck up and stayed out of my life."

I felt almost drained by the time I'd finished. I was out of breath at the very least, as if I'd just finished gym class. I felt pretty proud about the whole speech. Well, until I saw my mother's face. It looked as if I'd just punched her in the gut.

"Mom..."

She straightened up and looked me square in the face, her expression hardening. "Look here young lady. I get that you're mad, but I am your mother. You cannot talk to me like that, understand Rosaline?"

"Rose." I corrected automatically.

"Rose." She tasted the name. "Okay then, Rose. You don't know how sorry we are, truly. Your father and I want to make it up to you and your brother. We decided the only place to start would be to come back home."

I tried to keep the hope at bay. "You're back?"

"We're back." She smiled tentatively, reassuringly.

I looked up into her eyes, the only thing I'd inherited from her. "I'm sorry too." I apologized. "I shouldn't have said what I said."

"It's okay, honey." She leaned in and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "You had the right to be angry. But I'm going to be here for you now, I promise."

"Can we start over?"

She smiled more surely this time. "There's nothing I'd like more." She touched my arms lightly. "How about we go downstairs and see what your father and Trent are up to?"

I nodded and followed her down the hallway.

"Oh, and Rose?" she turned back to face me. "You're grounded."

"What?" The pitch of my voice reached an all new high.

"If you think you can talk to me like that and get away with it you are sadly mistaken."

Okay, I deserved that one. "Brilliant." I grinned sarcastically. "But is it okay if I'm grounded next week instead of this week?"

"That depends, I suppose." Mom looked at me expectantly.

"We're throwing an eighteenth birthday party on Friday. It's for Trent's best friend, Grant." His name came out in a dreamy sigh. I cringed internally, gritting my teeth. Stupid, stupid Rose. "So," I continued as if I hadn't just made moon eyes at the very mention of Grant. "Can it be next week, please?"

"I guess." She smiled. "We should really get back to the boys now, though."

"'Kay," I nodded.

We came downstairs to find Trent and Dad cheering at the TV. They were watching football and, apparently, the Patriots had just scored a touchdown. Mom and I sent a look to each other at their typically male behaviour. They were already immersed in the match: go figure.

As soon as we were spotted, my brother shot up from the couch. "Mom!" his gleeful voice was lit up with childish delight. "Dad's bought two tickets to the Red Sox game. I can go, can't I? Can't I?"

My eyebrows furrowed with confusion. Since when did Trent ask for permission to go and see a baseball game, let alone anything else?

Mom just laughed at his infantile behaviour. "Of course dear, when are you two going?"

"Tomorrow," Trent's face was split in half by a toothy grin.

"Sounds fine to me," she confirmed. "Rose?"

"Yeah?" I turned to look at her.

"Since the boys are off watching baseball tomorrow, do you feel like having a bit of mother-daughter time while they're out?"

I turned the idea over a few times. "Um, okay. That'd be nice."

Trent clapped his hands together loudly, effectively getting the room's attention. "Can we watch a movie? Please say yes!" He was practically bouncing up and down like a five year old who'd eaten too many pixie sticks.

What was his deal? Sure, we hadn't seen our parents in five years, but Trent is eighteen now, legally an adult. Why on earth had he suddenly reverted back to his days in kindergarten?

"Since you asked so nicely," Mom laughed.

"To the home theatre!" he announced, already leading them off and out of the living room. Trent was scaring me a little now; he's always so grownup...

Mom hovered in the doorway when she realized I wasn't following them.

"Don't you want to watch a movie?" She asked.

"Not without popcorn." I covered. "I was just going to make some."

"Want me to help?" Mom offered.

"Nah, I think I've got it under control." I smiled. "See you in there."

I walked into the kitchen in search of the popcorn. After opening the third cupboard and rooting around a little, I managed to rustle up four packets.

By the time the last popcorn packet was in the microwave, I'd thought about Trent's drastic change in behaviour extensively. The reason, however, still escaped me.

I mean, obviously it was because Mom and Dad came back, but you don't see me asking for a puppy or a trip to see Santa.

Oh my god; that was it. Trent was acting like a child because, since our parents were back, that meant he didn't have to play that role anymore. Wow, I guess Trent missed them more than I'd thought.

The timer on the microwave beeped, signalling that my contemplation time was over. I tipped the freshly popped popcorn into another bowl and carried them through to the rest of the family.