"Young love tends to be based on nothing but feelings. The couple has not yet faced and overcome a challenge or difficulty together. They are passionate about each other. They think about each other constantly and want to spend all their time"
Isaac...
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The damn rigged town of Beacon Hills. I'd be lying if I said that at some point I didn't hate it. Actually — I've always hated it. Well... maybe not always. And before you call me indecisive, I know, just hear me out.
There was a time when everything was alright. When I lived here with my mom and dad, when I had my friends and life felt normal — until it didn't.
Now that I think about it, maybe nothing was ever fine. Maybe it was all one big lie. That's what my life was: a carefully made-up, picture-perfect lie.
And you're probably wondering where all this bitterness comes from. Truth is... I don't even know. I guess I'm just a bitter person. My mom says I get my temper from my dad, but honestly, his isn't nearly as bad as mine. Sometimes I think she just blames everything on him because it's easier than admitting it might be her. But like I said — she'll always find a way to make him the bad guy.
It wasn't always like this though. Like I mentioned, there was a time when the three of us lived here and it was good — or at least I thought it was — until we packed up and moved to New Orleans. We had family there, or so I was told. I never really knew why. Little by little, the lies started unraveling. Truths came out. And suddenly I hated my life... or maybe I just hated the truth.
I didn't hate Beacon Hills. I just liked my life better in New Orleans. But eventually, my parents finally snapped. Split for good.
Maybe my mom didn't have another fight in her, or maybe something bad went down. I don't know. I'm still stuck in the lies, remember?
All I know is she packed her bags, threw me in the car, and we left.
Most of the ride, it was just me yelling at her, demanding to know why we were leaving, what happened, why we couldn't go back. She didn't say a word. I eventually gave up.
I like to think me and my mom have a good relationship. But if I'm being honest, half the time we're arguing. I know it's typical teenage stuff, but sometimes I swear we'd actually get along if she didn't lie so much. She gets lost in her own stories and it's exhausting.
It got to a point where I just stopped talking to her, because I knew it would end in another fight. And that's how the rest of the drive went — silent.
It stayed that way until I saw the "Welcome to Beacon Hills" sign.
I'd only lived in New Orleans for a summer, but it already felt like home. It felt like I could be myself there. Here, in Beacon Hills, I always felt like I had to fit in. And yeah, I did — but pretending sucks.
