SIXTEEN

TW: Brief mention of suicide

★Kiara★

When I wake up, I want to fall back asleep. But I just can't.

It's Sunday. My dad texted later last night, telling me that he and my mother booked a flight home already. It's 9 AM, considering the flight was for 7 he said, they've probably already landed. Mass to New York is nothing in terms of flying.

I never answered his text, just left him on read. I'm not mad at him per say, but he did nothing last night. Plus, I just don't want to talk to anyone.

Lucille is at her desk, bouncing her leg while seemingly doing homework.

I am an idiot, I remember.

I indirectly directly confessed last night, which is very embarrassing. She didn't even say anything in response. So not only did I fight with my mother, and not only do I feel so unbelievably emotionally exhausted, but I've screwed things up with Lucille's too.

I climb out of bed, my mattress squeaking. Lucille seems to hear, turning around. We make eye contact. I dart my eyes away as fast as possible. Then I immediately regret it. Now she's going to think I'm upset with her—which I'm not. I am upset, but she's not the reason. Well... Not entirely anyway. Also, I've now missed out on an opportunity to see her gorgeous eyes. The misty gray-blue, with a touch of brown near the pupils.

Ugh. I need to stop.

I prepare myself a bowl of Cheerio's with the stupid almond milk, and eat at the dinner table. The extra two chairs are still here.

Apparently I've been eating slow enough that all of my cereal is soggy. Gross.

I check the time again and it's only 9:19 AM somehow. I catch Lucille glancing over at me, but she still doesn't say anything. Ihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethis.

I put my still half-full bowl in the sink and go over to my desk. I need a distraction, so as per usual, I will be writing. I'm over halfway complete with my novel now. Jackson, the "serial killer" , is going to be arrested this chapter. Except it's also going to be a heavy ass lore drop. And also really depressing because he'd been trying to kill himself when he was stopped. Unfortunately, the officer who saved him recognized him. I've tried to write this chapter a few times in the past because it's so important, so thankfully I've got a pretty idea on what to do.

I write and I write. But then my thoughts drift away again.

I can't help but worry about my mother being right. Maybe I will need to come crawling back. And maybe I will be rejected by her. Wouldn't be the first time, but it'd suck.

I'm really regretting snapping at her. I should've just kept my mouth shut, nodded my head when necessary, and then it'd be over and I wouldn't have to talk to her for another couple of months. Now, who knows, I might never talk to her again.

Fuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkkkkkk.

I shut my laptop, leaning back in this shitty chair. I need a new one, but I do not have the money for that. I should get a job. Maybe I can work at that cafe with Deven.

Dammit. Deven. I never told them how badly things went down last night. I'll get around to it. Eventually.

I'm still absorbed in my depressing thoughts when Lucille draws me away. "Hey," She does that a lot. She clears my head so effortlessly.

She's sitting beside me, but on my bed. I have to turn my head to look at her, my chair doesn't spin like her's does.

"Hi..." I feel so tense with her eyes on me like this.

"Why are you being so awkward?" I think she's half-joking when she asks, but she isn't smiling. "I know last night sucked for you, but we should talk about it. Or, at least, you should let me listen to you talk about it. You shouldn't keep this bottled up. It really helped when you let me vent to you, and now it's your turn."

"I..." Deven is the only person I've talked to about my mom or any of my other problems. I don't like the idea of having to go through all the details with someone else. "I don't want to talk about it. My mom sucks and that's all there is to it. I don't feel like being all weak and emotional right now." I force out a laugh. Maybe if I pretend to be fine, she'll think I'm fine, and then we can all go about the day like everything is fine, and then I'll start to believe it myself.

Lucille doesn't laugh though. "Well I wouldn't think you're weak because I know you're strong."

She sighs, "From what I saw with your parents, I can tell they don't accept you. But the fact that you could stick up to your mom like that is proof that you are so much tougher than you realize. It probably hurts, and I get if you'd rather not talk or think about it, but you don't have to hold up this guard. Not around me." I don't like what her words are doing to me right now. My eyes are stinging. Dammit.

"I..." She hesitates for a second. "I like you Kiara, I really think I do. Whether you're some tough brute or a broken mess, because I've now seen you have highs and lows. Because you've been able to trust me in those moments. Because you're not that tough, cold, annoying girl all the time. Because you can be kind and vulnerable. Because you're a real person. And out of all the people I know, I can really trust you won't leave me in the dust and you can trust that I will never hurt you like anyone else."

Holy shit.

I was not expecting all of that.

What do I even say here?!

Oh my god.

No way she just said she liked me. She couldn't have meant it in the way I do right? She hates me. She makes that excessively clear all the time.

But I'd like to pretend for a moment.

I stand, going for another hug like last night. Lucille stands too, hugging me back. I really want to just bask in this moment, but I really need some goddamn clarification. "You... You said you liked me. I don't know in which way you meant that, but I like you, Lucille. In a full-on major crush way." I finally admit upfront.

Lucille laughs. A happy laugh, not a "haha you're an idiot, I hate you" one. "That's the only part of my speech you picked up on?" She teases. God, she needs to do that way more.

She steps back just a little bit, dropping her arms from around me. I do the same. She looks up at me, "But yeah. I didn't like you for a while because you were so fucking annoying, but I think I see it differently now. You are a human fucking being with human fucking feelings and you're one of the good ones. And I think I could like you too."

Could? What the fuck does she mean could?

"But... Do you..?" I ask hesitantly. Please say yes.

There's a pause. Oh no. No no no.

She takes a breath before speaking. "I thought I didn't... And I actually didn't at one point, but I see it now. I'm not at the point you are, but there are too many times I couldn't get you out of my head because I was worried. So many times you annoyed me nearly to death, but I didn't care because for some stupid reason I enjoyed it. I see now how much fun we have when we actually spend time together. How much we already have in common despite what it seems at first glance. So now that I think about it, yeah. Yeah, I like you too Kiara."

"Oh fuck you." I mutter, exhaling, not realizing I'd been holding my breath. I was freaking out there.

"That is the first thing you say to me after I confess my undying love?" She laughs. I love her laugh so much. So so so much.

"Yes! Because I have been so stressed over this." I laugh with her, and I pull her in for another hug. I love hugs. I don't know if it's because I was touch-starved as a child, or I'm just the physical touch kind of person, but I really do. Deven is really the only person I've hugged. Maybe my dad two or three times years ago, but that hardly counts.

I feel like I should ask the next important question. "Wait—can we be dating now?"

Lucille snorts. And it's fucking adorable. "Um, yes?" She agrees in a duh-like voice.

"Don't act like I'm an idiot, it's courtesy to ask!" It's probably crazy the way I want to kiss her right now. It's not the time, so of course I'll refrain, but I love this brat way too much. I guess I shouldn't call her a brat... Oh well.

★★★

"Wait, wait, wait... Never even once? Not a single clip?" Lucille's jaw is practically on the floor.

"Well I've seen clips of it, yeah, but I've never watched it." I admit.

"So you, the dorky goth chic—"

"I'm not goth." I remind her.

"Whatever—you have never seen Coraline!?"

"Nope." I don't see what the big deal is, but Lucille is clearly pretty astounded by this.

We have now been dating for a good 7 hours, and one of the benefits of this is how I've hardly thought about last night.

I opened up a bit, telling Lucille of how emotionally abusive and controlling my mother had been, how her slapping me wasn't an entirely rare occurrence, how my dad doesn't even seem to care.

It felt good to vent. Lucille didn't have much to say, but she listened. And that was all I needed.

We're eating the Chipotle we ordered on DoorDash at the table, just learning more about each other. She told me about her friend from home, Claire, and how she's homophobic. That pissed me off. I've never met this girl, but I do not like her. Lucille also is inviting me to her family's Thanksgiving. I'm nervous for that because she said a lot of family always comes, and it feels like two months is a little too soon to be meeting her parents, but she said most of her middle-school aged cousins bring their week-long partners.

I guess that is something to look forward to as long as our relationship lasts that long. For all I know I might be too annoying and she'll dump me. Or vice versa. I shouldn't think like that though.

Anyway, she asked me who my favorite Coraline character was and I couldn't answer because I've never watched it. Obviously, she was in shock.

"We need to change that. ASAP." She promises. "Tonight. We're watching it tonight."

"We have school tomorrow." I remind her, seemingly also reminding her of my surprisingly healthy sleep schedule, and her lack of one.

"Right... Next weekend then. It'll be October as well." Oh right. September is almost over. Time flies way too fast these days and it's really messing with my head.

"Deven wants to do a get-together with me, you, and any of your friends. Maybe we could watch it with them?" I suggest. I updated Deven a few hours ago. Told them about how things went with my mother—which they were very proud of me for—as well as how Lucille and I are finally an item. Maybe finally is an overstatement. We've known each other for a month.

"Oh that's perfect! I'll let Dakota know. Brie too." She pulls out her phone to text them. Making plans in advance is always good.

She sends them each a text and then draws her attention back to me, smiling slightly. It's adorable. It always is and always will be.

Now I've just gotta hope I can see that forever.

Damn, here I am already imagining us getting married, and adopting a kid because I never want to be pregnant and Lucille seems like a person that would feel the same, and eventually growing old together holding each other's hands on our front porch.

Yeah. I've got it bad. I am well aware.