CHAPTER 3: MOM'S BOYFRIEND. 

~ALLISON

Leaning on the dinner table, I crossed my arms on my chest. My brows furrowed as I watched my mom pace back and forth in the sitting room, talking on the phone with Mister Jacob.

It was no surprise that the sellout disciplinarian had kept his word. He had finally given me the 'Hard Time' he promised. But his decision didn't affect me as much as it seemed to bother my mom. She was furious, really mad.

Occasionally, she would glance in my direction and shoot me a glare. I wondered what version of lies Mister Jacob was telling her about my behavior at school.

Argh.

Her pacing was making me dizzy. I took a break and turned to the dining table, which was loaded with lavish dishes. Mom and I didn't usually eat much, so I was confused about the feast. But that didn't stop me from reaching for a pancake.

“Don’t touch that!” Mom's voice startled me from behind.

"I'm hungry!” I protested, quickly taking a bite before she could stop me. She didn't, but the glare in her eyes made it hard to enjoy the pancake.

“Seriously, Allison? All you can think about in this situation is pancakes. Do you even realize the mess you've gotten yourself into?” She scolded me. The anger on her face was unsettling. I'd never seen her this mad, and somehow I felt a pang of regret for my actions. 

I sighed.

“I'm sorry, Mom. It's just that—” I couldn't finish as she interrupted. “Sorry won't fix what you've done. Do you know how much it cost me to get you into that college?”

"I get it, Mom. It cost you a lot, but can you please hear me out? I'm also a victim. I got bullied!” I said more harshly than I meant to.

“Believe me, Mom," I added, disappointed by the doubt lingering on her face and then, I noticed she had makeup on, which was odd. Mom hardly wore makeup unless it was a special occasion.

She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a deep exhale. “Fine. Go wash off those paints. We'll talk about this later.”

I relaxed my furrowed brows and smiled.

“Hey, stop smiling. You're not off the hook yet!” She snapped, and I chuckled.

Rubbing her temples, she added, “You're such a headache, Allie,” and then she headed for the stairs.

"I love you, Mom,” I called after her. She stopped midway and turned to face me. "And please, don't eat any of those pancakes.”

But why?

I was about to ask, but she was already out of sight. I glanced back at the table, salivating at the delicious meals. We weren't rich enough to afford such quality food, so how did Mom manage to prepare all this? Considering the quantity I couldn't help but wonder if she did rob a bank or something?

Is she expecting a visitor? 

My brows furrowed as I wondered who Mom was expecting. We hadn't welcomed visitors in ages because Mom was usually wary of them, including Jason.

I sighed, pushing aside my jumbled thoughts. I need to wash off the paint before it gets super-dried on my hair. I headed for my room, not after sneaking two pancakes into my pocket. 

Don't judge me; my rebellious hungry spirit wouldn't let me walk away empty-handed. I just hoped Mom didn't count them.

As I walked past Mom's room, I stopped at the doorpost and frowned on seeing her retouching her makeup in the mirror. Since when did Mom care so much about her appearance?

“Mom?” I called, walking in. She faced me, her brows slightly creased, probably wondering why I hadn't washed off the paint yet.

“Alli–”

"You look beautiful, Mom,” I interrupted. She smiled warmly and murmured, “Thanks, darling.”

"So… is there something you're not telling me?” I awkwardly chuckled, adding, “Your makeup... The feast downstairs.”

"Oh yes, darling. I'm expecting Gary,” she replied, and confusion crossed my face as I tried to place the name.

"My boyfriend," she clarified, and I froze, staring at her with wide eyes.

She stood up and walked closer to me. "I understand if you're a bit overwhelmed and maybe don't like the idea—”

Overwhelmed? Yes, because I never thought Mom would give love a second chance after all the pain she went through with my father.

But disliking the idea? No way.

“I can’t wait to see him!” I cut her off, excitement bubbling inside me.

She chuckled. “You will, darling. Now go get cleaned up. You don't want to give them the wrong impression on your first meeting.”

“Them?” I mused aloud, but before Mom could explain, the doorbell rang, interrupting her.

“I guess they're here,” she said instead and hurried out of the room, her heels clicking against the stairs.

As I followed her, I remembered how messy my hair was and stayed back from descending the stairs. I don't mind keeping them company with my multi-colored hair, but Mom was particular about making a good first impression. I had to respect that.

Fortunately, I still had a chance to catch my first glimpse of them from my vantage point on the upper staircase. I eagerly awaited their arrival.

Mom entered my view first, followed by a middle-aged man in a black suit, undoubtedly Gary, judging by the affectionate smile he directed at my Mom. And... he looked oddly familiar.

My mind reeled back, my brows furrowing as I struggled to place where I had seen his face before. Just then, the last person walked in and my eyes widened. 

“Landon?”