Chapter 3: Farren Grey

Chapter 3: Farren Grey

A Chapter by ZekkieSpencer
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Third Chapter of the Ravenbrook Terrace Novel. Farren Grey Central

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Chapter 3

Farren Grey

 

Mom’s not home. As in, no car, no clothes, no cash, no note. No warning. Mom’s not home.

I didn’t realize at first that mom wasn’t home. I mean, I did know. Maybe I didn’t. I guess I just didn’t realize that the car being gone meant that mom had left. I didn’t know that she would just get up and disappear without even leaving some way for me to find out where she was.

Two Hours Earlier

I stood at my front door, staring at the fading white paint. I could definitely tell that there was something off; something that I was sure was missing. I had walked up the driveway earlier and hadn’t notice that the car was missing until I had walked up to the doorway. I turned my head to the empty driveway, trying to figure out what was going on. Most people wouldn’t notice that the car is missing. Having an unpredictable alcoholic mother is enough reason for anyone to double check to make sure the car is still in the driveway.

The only one who uses that car is me, and that was when I got my license a year ago after I turned sixteen. Since then, my mother found no reason to ever use it since she realized that she could just get a job at the bar a few blocks away. She didn’t even need me to me drive her there on the days when she worked. I go grocery shopping and buy the food. If she needed booze, she came with me, or she just walked. I guess it’s a blessing that I got the car, but it doesn’t feel like I should have it because my mom is more drunk than sober, and I should be taking care of her instead of going about my own life. I had a car, which is freedom, but I still felt trapped.

Walking into the house, I first noticed the silence. No people chatting on the television screen, no clinking of glasses or bottles. No ruffles from blankets and paper wrappers from the pizza joint that delivers a few blocks away.

The house was too silent.

I checked around the lower levels of my house, double checking the family room and the bathroom, to make sure that she hadn’t passed out earlier in the morning. I glanced around the bathroom upstairs and my room before searching her room.

Unnerved, I searched the closets for clothes, only to find them devoid of her belongings. Her dressers and drawers proved likewise. Her cash stash, that was at one point hidden and secret until I accidently stumbled on it, was empty from its place under the mattress.

Mom wasn’t home, and as far as I knew, wasn’t returning.



 

“What do you mean, she’s gone?”

I looked down at Carter, who had her feet propped up on my bed, lying on the floor. Her hair fanned around her head in a golden halo, her hands resting lightly on her flat stomach. She looked up at me expectantly.

I sighed, smoothing a wrinkle down on my blanket. “Exactly what I’d said before. Poof! She’s missing, and I don’t know why or when. It was probably last night when we came back to your house.”

She frowned, grumbling something. I glanced down at her and met her toes in my face. She wiggled them, looking bored. “I still don’t get why you didn’t just tell me about this last night.”

I rolled over onto my back, hiding my irritation from Carter. She could be so trying sometimes. Not that that was her fault. She cares too much.  “Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to disturb your play date with Sean.” Carter glared up at me.

“It’s Sian.” She shot at me.

I frowned, kicking my foot off so it hung off the side of the bed. “Isn’t that what I said?”

She pulled her legs off the bed and sat up, running a hand through her hair. “Uh no, you said Sean, like S-E-A-N. It’s Sian, like S-I-A-N. Like Shahn. Kind of.” She furrowed her brow, almost with confusion.

I snorted, pushing myself up to a sitting position. I leaned up against the headboard to make room for my friend. “Did you just confuse yourself?” I questioned.

“No, I did not.” She scoffed. She gracefully pulled herself onto my bed and pulled my feet into her lap. The light purple duvet wrinkled again, ruining my previous smoothing.

“Did she leave a note?” she asked, playing with my toes.

I stared blankly at her, wiggling my toes when she hit a sensitive spot. “Pardon? Leave a what?”

Carter rolled her eyes. “A note? Or a clue? Did you look for anything to help figure out where Mama Grey went?” She absently rubbed the bottom of my feet, staring at me impatiently.

I blinked, finally catching her drift. “Oh! Yeah, course I looked. No papers, brochures, receipts, or anything.”

She sniffed and rubbed the tip of her nose. “Check the answering machine? Voice mail? Maybe she called earlier.”

I jumped up off the bed and launched myself at the phone charger across the room. A small envelope icon flickered on the top bar, signaling a new message.

“Um, I got a text.” I said, swiping my finger along the top of the screen to drag the message screen down. Quickly I scanned the brief post.

She stood up off the bed and walked over to me, standing close behind me and looking over my shoulder at the phone in my hands.

“Is it from your mom?” she asked, setting a hand on my shoulder to get a better look.

I looked up and she stepped back quickly, nearly jumping back into my desk. A glass jar with pencils toppled off the desk onto the floor. I jumped a little at the sudden noise and quickly I locked the screen.

I rubbed my neck tiredly and set the phone down. I glared at my shoes and tried to take even breaths to calm myself down. When I looked up, Carter was holding a separate copy of the emancipation papers, blue eyes focused sharply at me.

“Yeah it was.”

She walked over to me, throwing the folder onto the desk. “Well? Where is she?” she asked almost forcefully.

“Mama Grey is somewhere out in Portland. She’s not coming back for a while. “I don’t know when she’s coming back

Carter froze. “What about the hearing? What about the... the emancipation?” Worried, she stood up and began to pace around the room.

I rubbed my nose, trying to pretend it didn’t bother me. “Fifty days today. I submitted them last Tuesday.”

My friend stared at me, exasperated. She paced over to the bookshelf and paused at the side, resting her hands on the pressed wood. Without looking at me she asked, “Your mom has a month and a half to straighten herself out. That’s not a long time, it’s insane. What if she’s not here in time?”

I shrugged. “I guess they reschedule. Now, if she had stayed, and we had gone to the court house and just signed the papers, we wouldn’t need a hearing. I think she might fight it.”

Carter didn’t look too convinced. She finally looked up at me, her face hinting hope. “At least she might be trying to fight it, Fae. It means she’s finally choosing blood.”

I sat down on the desk chair, spinning it lazily. “Yeah, but it’s a bit too late for that.”

 Carter pursed her lips and perched herself up on the desk. She spun my chair with painted feet, helping me spin in slow circles. “Maybe she wanted to see how serious you were.”

I shrugged, stopping the spin to prop my feet onto the desk. She started to poke at me toes again. “I guess I could call her cell.” I said.

Carter bounced excitedly, leaving my feet alone and hopping to her feet. Despite her height and age, she seemed almost childish. “Ooh! We can do it tomorrow, and see that movie we never got to see on Wednesday.” She smiled brightly.

I smiled brightly, excited that maybe for once I’d be able to go out with Carter without having to worry about my mother getting in the way. Then I remembered another slight bump in the plans. I frowned. “What about your little scenic pixie?”

Her grin dropped and was replaced by puzzlement. “Who’s a scenic pixie, what?”

48

 
I smirked at her confused sentence and thought back the moment on the porch where Sian showed up. “Sean? She reminded you of something that you had apparently discussed yesterday about tomorrow.” I rambled vaguely, pointing to the ever more confused blond.

She gnawed at her bottom lip slightly, pulling at the flesh.  “Well, as it turns out, I’m not going anywhere with a Sean. However, I might be going to a party with my friend Sian out in the woods by the park like the beginning of summer.” She stared at me, trying to read into my reaction. I kept my face emotionless. She continued skeptically.

“But that’s not until nightfall at earliest, so we can do the whole hanging out thing all day and maybe you could join us then?” she looked at me hopefully, trying to save our time together.

I twisted my face into a grimace. “Ugh what, with the pixie? I’ll just hang around in my empty, empty house.” I said dramatically.

She glared at me disapprovingly, insanely like her own father. “What is your problem with Sian? She’s not evil. Nor is she a pixie. And what the hell does scenic mean?”

“Of course she is,” I scoffed. I don’t know why she’s so defensive of this girl. I don’t see anything even remotely worth defending. “She’s 5’1”, a self-declared emo-goth-punk-whatever, and has a bad attitude.” I stared at her growing fury. Why doesn’t my friend understand? I could easily see there is something off about her. My poor trusting friend. I rolled my eyes.

“It doesn’t help she acts like a dyke as well.” Ruefully, I glanced at her, smirking at the girl’s behavior earlier. It was obvious, at least to me. She was always clinging to Carter, calling her all sorts of pet names. It was written all over her face.

Carter froze, shocked into some kind of silence. Quickly she turned away, pulling her hair back from her face and setting her hands onto her head. Instantly I felt bad at hurting her feelings. It’s not like I called her a dyke.

“Sorry, too far? I know she’s your friend. God. Wow, that was a bit harsh, wasn’t it?” I set my hand on her knee, genuinely sorry for what I said.

She looked down at my hand and sat like that for a moment, going through some internal conflict. Her eyes glazed over momentarily and she moved her hand over mine, covering it lightly with her own before stiffly pushing it off. She shook her head and glared up at me.

50

 
“I can’t believe you just said that. Like, even if she was gay, that it’s disgusting. And she isn’t. That’s just how she acts. The fact…” She halted, standing up, obviously aggravated. “The fact that you were so quick to judge her when you don’t even know her; its wrong and it pisses me off.”

50

 
With all that said she turned on her heel sharply and stalked to the door. She hesitated, grabbing the door handle. “I don’t know why you dislike her so much Fae, but this is not how the Fae I know would have reacted. Imagine if this was me that one of your friends was dissing. That I was the one being called the dyke, and I wasn’t even there to speak for myself. I don’t think you’d be so quick to judge if that were the case.” She raised a slim brow and exited quietly.

I opened my mouth to deny it, but what she said was true. At least part of it was. I was a little confused by the whole what if it was Carter part. I didn’t like Sian at all, she rubs me the wrong way, but what does she mean if it was her? I’m sure she’s just trying to make a point, but honestly? Her comment just made me wish that Carter would just stay away from that girl. There is no way she’s normal.

As I sat in silence, I heard her retreat slowly down the stairs, probably in her own train of thought. I heard the door open and shut quickly. Yeah, there’s something definitely off about her.

The way she froze. There had to be more to that then she was letting on. More than just the fact that I insulted the dark faerie queen.

Before I had time to dwell too much on the subject, the doorbell rang. I growled, thinking it was just Carter back for round two of berating me, remembering some thought she forgot to add.

I eased myself down the stairs, avoiding all the crap my mom left there for anyone to trip over, and walked down the hall to the door, shutdown already forming in my brain. Instead I found myself staring at dark blond spikes and a pair of deep gold flecked hazel eyes.

Ryan smiled cheerfully; apparently oblivious and untouched by the madness that was contagious around here.

I blinked back my surprise and frowned. “Ryan? What are you doing here? You don’t normally talk to the weird kids, let alone me.” I bit off the last bit, regretting being rude to the guy I had been fascinated with for the past few years. I squinted at him uneasily. He may be pretty, but he kind of seems like an a*s.

He stared at me confused, straight white smile falling from his face. He squirmed, obviously caught off guard. “Yeah, I kept meaning to.” He rubbed his neck, looking off the side at my neighbors before looking back with an apologetic look. “I guess I’ve never gotten the courage to say hi.” He smiled slightly.

 “Does that line work for them all?” I snickered. He stared at me, more confused than before. I stifled another giggle and tried to explain.

“It’s a pick up line. See, I’ve never seen you to be afraid of talking to a girl. You’re too…friendly. ”I smirked, leaning against the doorframe.

He smiled again, this time coy. He shoved his hands into his pocket and gazed up at me. In the sun, I spotted a light smattering of freckles under his eyes and across the bridge of his nose I never noticed before. It was kind of cute, really.

“Ha! Those girls are too easy; just a bunch of blonds and airheads. It’s not too hard to… talk… to them.” He stepped forward and gave me a knowing wink. “But an intelligent female such as you is absolutely intimidating.”

I stepped aside giving in. “Do you want to come in?” I asked, gesturing him inside with a thumb.

He stepped inside, sweeping past me. The scent of Old Spice drifted with him, and I found myself breathing in the smell.

He nudged the box of crafting supplies on the floor with his foot. I giggled sheepishly and picked it up.

“You into scrapbooking?” he asked, picking up a dinosaur stamp.

I shook my head and retrieved it from Ryan’s hand. “No, my mom used to be all into that stuff, for like, a month. Carter knocked it over the other day.” I gestured to the stairs and threw the stamp into the box.

He sat on the stair next to the box and reached into it, drawing out a short, stubby green pencil and a piece of paper. He pointed to the end table at the end of the hall. “Sit there.” She said simply.

I stared at the table curiously. “Why would I do that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Let me sketch you.” He pointed to the table again.

“Are you an artist or something?”

He shook his head. “Just do it, Farren.”

Warily I positioned myself onto the table, trying hard not to tip it. It wobbled haphazardly, but it stayed. “Did you come over here for a free model?”

His pencil began to move agilely across the page and his tongue poked out of his mouth as he concentrated. “Uh, nope. I just had this sudden urge to draw you.” He smirked up again at me. “You are my muse.”

I raised a brow. “Oh really? I don’t quite believe that. Are you sure you’re not an artist?”  My foot twitched, hitting the leg of the table, making aloud smack. Ryan jumped.

“Well, no. I don’t make any money off of it. I want to, though, if I was good enough. It’s mostly for fun, really.” He squinted at me, pencil still scribbling even as he squinted at me.

I nodded and leaned back, relaxing as Ryan continued to draw me. I thought over his words, still curious as to how Ryan even got the idea to even come over.

I opened my eyes, not even aware that they had even closed and spotted Ryan reclining against the stairs, smug. I rubbed my eyes and stretched. I felt his eyes on my stomach as my shirt rode up.

“Did I seriously just fall asleep?” I yawned, pulling my shirt back down.

            He shook his head. “No. More like you just dropped off a little bit. Not too long.”

54

 
            He got up and patted himself down before he pulled out the leaf of paper. He handed it to me. I noticed his fingernails were chewed down and ragged. I opened the folds and looked down.

            The drawing was a bit sketchy. I guess that was normal for these kinds of drawing, but beneath all the stray lines you could definitely tell that it was me. It was insanely detailed as well, you could see the little trail of drool trailing down my tilted head. I looked peaceful.

He walked to the door and put his hand onto the doorknob. “You can keep it,” he said, with a small smile. “Your remarkable when you sleep.”

I gave him a questioning look. “I was asleep. How can I be remarkable? You mean pretty?”

He shrugged then nodded. I frowned. “Does that mean I’m ugly when I’m awake?”

He opened the door. “Yeah, you’re a right minger.” He winked. He started out the door, leaving me confused for a moment. I shook my head, clearing my head.

“Hey, Ryan!” I called after him. I followed him out the door, where he was already halfway down the porch steps.

He looked up to me, and turned around, hands on the stair railings on either side of him. “Yeah?”

I scratched my head and moved my hand so that it rested on the door frame. I squinted against the lowering sun. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

He stared up at me thoughtfully. “Going to the woods to draw the pond with a friend. Then going to an amazing party.”

Disappointed, I felt my face fall. “Oh. With who?”

He shrugged, pretending ignorance. “I dunno. Someone named Farren Grey. Ever hear of her?” He winked, flirting slightly.

A smile crept back onto my face. “Hmm, no. Doesn’t quite sound familiar. Too bad for you though. I’m going to the pond with my friend Ryan Millington I met today.”

He grinned brightly at me before turning around and jumping the rest of the steps. “What a lucky lad.”

“Yeah, I hope he sure knows it too.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does.”

 

 

 



© 2012 ZekkieSpencer


Author's Note

ZekkieSpencer
Not to fond of the ending and wish it could have been longer. :C

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Added on May 16, 2012
Last Updated on May 16, 2012


Author

ZekkieSpencer
ZekkieSpencer

Honey Brook, PA



About
I'm just an average teen, strike that, no I'm not. I'm told my mind in like a book, a library, but unfortunately, it seems like my library could use the Dewy Decimal System. I spend alot of my time re.. more..

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