What's Mine | ✓

18 - just say yes

Reading is something I've always enjoyed, always treasured.

When shit goes wrong in this house, I like to read and imagine myself in the world of these books. I think mentally putting myself in the made-up fantasy land helps me envision what could be, had I been dealt a different card in life.

Alas, that wasn't the case.

Currently, I was listening to mom and Roy's hushed argument while I was prepping myself a sandwich. Roy, thankfully, hasn't made a move since that day, a week ago, now. My mom and Roy argue quite a bit, so it isn't new to me. But what did make it different was her questioning who he was with.

My stomach clenches. The urge to come out and say something has never been this strong before. I mean, if she's this upset just assuming he was with someone (which, he probably was), then she'd have to believe me, right?

I jump slightly when a door is slammed, drawing me back to reality. Brooks, cautiously, enters the kitchen.

"What the hell was that?"

I shrug a shoulder. "It's not the first fight they have. Won't be the last."

"True," he sighs, then grins at me. "Since we've been training all week, and we have a game on Monday, the team is throwing a party. Something chill, so we can all just relax. Wanna come with?"

"You don't mind little Andrews cramping your style?" I tease.

"My legacy in that school is you, nerd," he smiles. "I encourage you coming with me—responsibly, of course."

"Responsibility is my middle name, big brother."

"And you're a liar, baby sister."

I smile, shaking my head at him. "Yeah, sure, I could use a night out. When are we leaving?"

"Bout an hour."

I look down at the counter. "Want this, then? Kinda lost my appetite."

"Is that even a question?"

I chuckle as he rounds the counter and grabs the sandwich. I walk up the stairs, going to my room. I lock the door before walking into my closet, looking at my options.

I decide almost instantly on a dark green dress that had long sleeves and a v-cut that exposed a decent amount of my cleavage and side slits. I match it with black wedges and walk to my vanity. I brush my hair, apply some light makeup—mascara, liner, and gloss—and sprayed some perfume.

Once finished, I grabbed one of my clutches and slip my phone inside before exiting my room, locking it, and heading down the hall.

Only, I paused when I heard quiet sobbing from my moms closed door. I had two options: keep going like I didn't hear anything, or knock.

Of course, I went with the latter.

"Mom?" I say softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."