dear diary

chapter 12

dear diary,

among the thousands of thoughts circling my brain, one is a lot clearer than the rest.

chase regrets kissing me, and i don't blame him.

did he feel bad for me? did he think i felt bad for him?

maybe it was too soon, but part of me feels like it was perfect timing.

I'm embarrassed to admit the fact that that singular kiss changed a lot of things for me.

i used to be scared to let people in, and the old me would've ran a thousand miles away from anyone who got closer than a few feet from me.

but chase has his claws in me now, and there isn't a single part of me that imagines pushing him away.

even though that's the logical move, I don't think I could bring myself to forget last night, and forget the fact that we were both so open with each other.

i wish he would just tell me where his head is.

I throw my diary on my bed out of frustration, last night the only thing occupying my mind from the time I went to bed until the second I woke up.

His lips on mine were transfixing, a perfect match.

If my mom knew I had a boy in the house, she would've lost her mind. If she knew that I was on that boys lap, swapping spit, she would kill me.

She's made it very clear over the years that I'm not allowed to have a boyfriend, only friends that are boys, if that.

When she pushed for me to make new friends, I thought maybe her outlook changed, but she later reiterated that the boyfriend rule still stands.

Not that me and Chase are dating, or ever will, but I knew what she meant.

Breakups are a lot messier than leaving a friend behind, and she doesn't want to deal with my heartbreak. I understand, I've already caused her enough stress.

That's why part of me was glad she was gone this weekend, because she probably wouldn't have let me go to a high school party either.

The cops were called for fucks sake, that could've been bad.

Had I gotten in trouble, we might've had to leave again.

I can't help but feel irresponsible for breaking her rules, ones I used to agree with heavily.

A lot of things have changed since we've moved here, and her rules have sort of been stacked on a shelf in the back of my head.

I haven't talked to her in a while, and that's sort of helped me realize she hasn't been making any efforts to reach out to me.

I stack that thought in the back of my mind as well, not having the mental capacity to think such a thing right now.

I get off my bed and walk over to the closet, grabbing jeans and a tank top, pairing it with an old zip up sweatshirt.

I walk downstairs, grabbing a banana off the counter and the twenty dollar bill my mom must've left me last night. There's no note with it.

Shes been coming home at around 1am, her job as a receptionist apparently crucial to the business she's working at. I haven't seen her since she's been back Sunday night.

I grab my keys and leave my house, heading to school.

The first three periods of the day go by effortlessly, the seminar in English being extremely underwhelming as I had expected it to be. The teacher simply asked us for our opinions, only no one wanted to share theirs. I spoke, and so did one other kid, and the rest was awkward silence.