The Summer I Met Her (GirlxGirl)

11- I'm Only Me When I'm With You

"Ugh!" I groaned in my pajamas, falling back into my unmade bed, my phone held above my grumpy face.

"What's wrong." Jaycee asked from the other end of the ongoing FaceTime call, inside her own room.

I was alone in the camper, thank god. I was so put out with everyone in the house I just needed some time to cool off by myself, maybe vent to a friend.

"It's my dad," I rolled my eyes. "He wants me to mow tomorrow but I literally have to work. I don't know why he's being weird about it."

"He knows you're working?"

"Yes! I work every Saturday. I have no idea what the deal is." I groaned again. "And even if I got home by 6:30 and started right then it'd be dark by the time I was done and I wouldn't have enough time to shower, pack, and be at your place on time."

"You can always sleepover another night."

"I know... but I was really looking forward to it."

It was a last minute plan; since we both go to the same church we figured it would be a good idea. We'd wake up and go, I ride home with my family. And we'd have an excuse to hang out longer.

"Don't sweat it. It's canceled. If you try to come over the doors and windows will be locked. It's supposed to rain a shit ton next week, so we'll just plan for another day?"

I sighed reluctantly. "Yeah I guess so."

There was a pause between us. "You're making a pouty face."

I made an even poutier face. "I'm allowed to be sad."

The corners of her mouth tugged up. "Yes you are."

I stuck my bottom lip out. "I miss you."

"Woman," she laughed. "We live next door."

I groaned yet again. "I know! But I really wanted to sleep over."

"Same. But your responsibilities come first."

"You sound like my dad." I grumbled.

She just smirked at me. "I gotta go, Fi. Dad's calling me downstairs for whatever reason." She rolled her eyes at that last part. "Talk to you soon?"

"Yeah." I mumbled. "Bye." I waved at the camera half heartedly.

"See ya."

FaceTime call ended.

I dropped my phone and sighed.

<>

I woke up bitter and angry that Saturday morning.

I pulled that stupid red t-shirt over my shoulders. It said "staff" on the back in bold white lettering inside an archer icon. I didn't want to be "staff."

I trudged into the tiny bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror for a solid ten seconds before begrudgingly adding mascara and brushing down my unruly blonde locks.

I opened the camper door only to be greeted by the crisp morning air and dew across the uncut grass. The fact that the yard went up to my socks was just a painful reminder it was my problem to deal with.

My dad beamed at me before I even had the screen door fully open.

"Morning!" He smiled. He and the dogs were always the only ones up at seven-thirty. "Hey I left the mower out for you, if you didn't already see it."

I moaned some kind of an irritated response.

"What're you doing up anyway?" He seemed genuinely confused.