There really isn't much more of Going Rogue left! After you read this one, there is only 1 more chapter left! If you are behind, they are really short chapters around a page-page and a half each. Continuing Aaron's journey...
The days were getting colder and the days had become a blur. It had snowed and I was thankful of the coat that I had stolen. I yanked on my cap to further cover my ears. When I was little I loved the snow, I use to pretend that I was like Neil Armstrong with my boots leaving prints in the snow. My mom hated the cold, but she would bundle the two of us up on snow days to go outside. She would have snowball fights with me, always letting me win. We would stay outside till our noses and cheeks were pink then we'd go inside to get into pajamas with a mug of hot chocolate. I watched the smoke form with the last breath I took. I was never going to see my mom ever again. The flash of her being disappointed in the last time we spoke came before me.
I shook my head. I had to focus on the snow days, not my teen years with her. Staring above me the clouds were dark still from the night before's snow fall.
"I hope you can see me up there. I'm trying to do better for you and dad."
My heart fell down to my stomach. I needed to get back to Lauren. I could hear my mom's voice telling me that I shouldn't run away from my troubles. Though I'm pretty sure Lauren is exactly the type of girl my mom would have tried to set me up with. She didn't care for the ones that I brought home, or the few that I did bring home. I chuckled, God, mom would try to marry Lauren and me together if she was still around. She wanted lots of grandchildren, just not right then.
My mom would make cookies with me sometimes after school, I think we ate more of the dough than the actual cookies. As much as my dad and I had a special relationship where he took me to get my tattoo, my mom was the one that I could talk to. She and I built a fort the first week that I moved in with them.
I shoved my hands into my pockets as I thought back to how nervous I was. I had spent the time that I could remember in a couple of foster homes before I was told I was getting adopted. I didn't trust my new parents. I had been shuffled around a few times that I didn't actually believe that they would keep me. I would barely talk to them, I picked at my food. I came down one morning to see a blanket fort in the living room with a plate of cinnamon buns inside.
I had tip toed over to the blanket. They left me alone that day while I sat in the fort and I fell asleep in it. The next morning I woke up and saw my mom coming down the stairs. She had her hair tied back so that when she bent down to look at me I could look into her eyes. She had the warmest smile that I had ever seen.
"I use to build forts like this for my cousin's when we were growing up. Do I still have the skills?"
I remember laughing and she asked to join me in the fort. When I nodded she sat down next to me and talked about her family growing up. Eventually I got hungry and we ate breakfast. She got me. She always did. My mom got that I needed to do things on my time. She was the greatest mom.
"Mom, I know I never said it enough, but I love you. I promise I will make you proud. I didn't do much of that before you-" I paused unable to say out loud that she was gone. "I know I have to go back, even when you're gone you're still steering me in the right direction."
I turned on my heel towards a certain girl.