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Everybody whispered about Brittany, but nobody had the courage to talk to her. It wasn’t as though Brittany didn’t know it, either. If she didn’t, it might have been a different conversation. But she did, and they did. They all knew. Still, Brittany remained the ever talked-about and seldom talked-to girl with the oversized round glasses and dirty blonde hair.She didn’t seem to care particularly much about it, either. They talked. Sometimes they even had the decency to look anywhere else when they talked about her. Most of the time, though, ...
The kettle bubbled furiously, but Liza was too lost to hear the click of it turning off. Safety features saving her again from a disaster of boiled-over mess. Her teabag sat comfortably in the mug she had pulled down hours ago, when she was in the mood for tea, but without the time to make it. She hated the stereotype that enveloped mothers of them never getting to enjoy hot beverages and scoffed that her fairly strict routine would ever allow for children to interrupt such indulgences, if one could even consider a hot beverage an indulgence...
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