𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 & 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ━ girl meets world²

8│ASK ME ANYTHING ( EXCEPT THAT. . . )

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❛ ʟᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ & ʟᴀᴄᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀsᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ
( ᴇxᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. . . ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴀsᴋ ᴍᴇ
ᴛʜᴀᴛ ) ꒱


❝ WHAT DO YOU MOST
REGRET NOT SAYING TO
SOMEONE, AND WHY DID
YOU NOT SAY IT? ❞

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She vaguely heard the balcony door close as Juliet finished her call, but the sound of her mother's footsteps were what set her in motion. She quickly began to put everything away as her heart picked up speed, knowing that the older woman wouldn't be pleased to see her past aired out like this.

"Miya?" Juliet called out. Her footsteps came closer as she came to check the room; the girl's grip on some of the pictures slipped as she tried to straighten them and they fell on the bed. Her head jerked up in alarm as her mother came to stand at the doorway.

It only took a second for Juliet too take everything in: the open hatbox, the photos spread everywhere, her daughter wearing the leather jacket and. . . that damned ring box. Miya had never seen her mother go so white— with her dark hair and pale face, she could have passed for a Halloween specter. She stood frozen at the entrance to her bedroom with her lips slightly parted in a look of downright fear. One of her hands went to rest on the frame to steady herself as the scene sank in.

Instinctively, the Asian girl hid the photos behind her back, but there was too much incriminating evidence that she could even hope to escape this unscathed. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out: "mom, who's Shawn Hunter?"

If Juliet had been white before, it was nothing compared to the sheer terror in her expression now. She looked as if she were barely breathing; it was several long moments until she could bring herself to even speak. When she did, her voice was colder and shakier than Miya had ever heard it. "No one. We are so not talking about this— we're not talking about this ever. Put everything back exactly how you found it and we'll never mention this again." Her lips pressed into a thin line and she turned to leave, pausing to add: "you'll be over at Jonah's again tonight— that's what I wanted to tell you."

Then, the dark-haired woman closed the door behind her as if she could shut out the memory of seeing her daughter surrounded by all the things that had pained her.

The brunette sighed as followed her mother's. . . well, demand. She ate dinner at Jonah's almost every night; his mom— who was a nurse and had a much better excuse for being absent— hired one of the teens in the neighborhood to watch him and Juliet paid half of the fee so Miya could be there as well. Although Juliet did spend as much time with her daughter as she could, the nights permanently belonged to her mother. It wasn't that she didn't like spending time with her best friend— she did— she was just tired of her mom dating so many men that meant nothing to her; they always meant nothing.

🌎🌎🌎

"Hi Uncle Kendrick," Miya greeted her mom's friend as soon as she could get on the phone. "Who's Shawn Hunter?"

There was a brief pause before the black man replied, in a slight falsetto, "'hi, Uncle Kendrick. How are you? No, I'm not just calling because I need something— I really want to catch up, too. How was your week?' Would have been a very easy way to start this conversation,'" he teased her.

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly. "How are you?"

"'Oh, that ship's sailed now, missy. How'd you find out about Shawn— or as I prefer to call him, 'the idiot who broke your mother's heart?'"