ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀɴᴅ|ᴊ.ꜰ

🀣𝟢𝟢𝟧🀣

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ
↳ʜᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴛ.2.

🀣ᴊᴇʀᴇᴍɪᴀʜ ꜰɪꜱʜᴇʀ🀣

"Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand
Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder
But how could I hate her? She's such an Angel
But then again, kinda wish she were dead as she

Walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerized while I die

Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
I wish I were Heather"

Mom nudged my side, a bright smile on her face. "Isn't she just great?" She asked. I nodded. "Perfect, even." Nani had the voice of an angel, and she put you in a trance a siren would. She was etherial when on stage and there was no doubt about it. Her pitch black hair was in curls, and she'd actually had it down and done. Nani almost never does her hair.
Belly usually takes care of it during the summer since she refuses to do anything with it. Last summer, me and Nani's thing was sitting at the beach at night, just the two of us, and I'd play with her hair. She'd always fall asleep which left me to carry her inside, but I didn't care. She was always at peace when she was asleep, no longer on high alert.
When she was finished, the entire crowd erupted in cheers. She deserved all the praise, really. She was amazing. I'd walk towards the stage to meet her there as always. We did it every year. But when I got there, someone had gotten to her before me. And of course it was Mateo. He hugged her really tight and I couldn't hear what he was saying but he looked proud of her.

I got this weird ache in my chest watching it all happen. That was supposed to be me congratulating her and telling her she did amazing. Nani was supposed to be smiling at me, giving me a hug. Not Mateo Rodríguez.

🀣ᴢᴀʀᴀ ᴍᴀʜɪɴᴀ🀣

When mom came on Friday, everyone was on edge. And It was understandable given her track record. But I wanted things to be normal, even if they were slowly changing. So I'd show mom around the house and point out the little changes before we'd head up to my room. We left everyone downstairs, and I could feel their eyes burning into us the entire time we walked up. Mom sat down on the bed, taking in the scene around her.
My room was one of the only places in the beach house that had changed drastically over the years. When I was little, it was filled with toys and the bed was covered with teddy bears and princess sheets and blankets. The walls were once a pale pink, too. And now that I think about it, that color made me wanna throw up as I'd gotten older.
I'd convinced Susannah and Laurel to let me paint it an emerald green. I'd darkened it up a little, hung up fairy lights here and there. It was Susannah's idea to throw in the baby blue accents with the gold. She said it looked pretty, and it did.
"Your hair is different," mom cut through the silence I'd let build between us. "Yeah, I dyed it back. Got tired of all the damage it was causing," I said. She simply nodded, taking a few more glances around the room. "Look-"
But I'd cut her off. "I need you to stay in line while you're here, mom. I don't need the drama that you carry around in a suitcase, alright? Just sit quiet, be an outstanding citizen, and do not embarrass me or ruin my life all over again."

Some would say I was being harsh, but I wasn't. It was exactly what she needed to hear to keep her from messing everything up. She was good at that. Messing things up, I mean. There wasn't a moment in my life that she hadn't done that. I used to wonder why she ever had a kid when she knew she wouldn't be able to take care of it. Sometimes I like to think she had me because I could teach her how to love, and how to be a good person.
She nodded. "I promise, cross my heart, Nani." I'd shut my eyes when said my nickname. I hated hearing it from her. She wasn't even the one who started calling me it, it was Susannah and Laurel who'd made It up. "I was thinking we could lay some fresh flowers on your dads gave? I know you do it every time you come here."
I could be a total bitch to her and say no. I could brush her off and refuse to participate but I couldn't do that, not when it involved dad. "Can Jeremiah come?" I asked. "Of course he can, I know how much he looked up to your father."
But she didn't. She didn't know. She was only saying that to seem like she was in the loop. "Alright well, I'm meeting a friend in a few minutes so I have to get going."

I didn't give her time to speak before heading out to my car. But I didn't turn the engine on. I couldn't. All the thoughts in my head started swarming, building up like a tornado funnel and destroying all the file cabinets up there. Everything was scattered now, and that weight in my chest was coming back tenfold.
I felt like I couldn't breathe. My lungs were begging me for air I'd never be able to deliver.

When we were younger, Jeremiah always had this way of knowing when something was wrong. It was like his sixth sense. He knew when I was sad, or when I was really happy about something, and he knew when my thoughts were becoming too loud for me.
So when he'd come down the driveway and gotten in the passengers seat, I felt like I was eight years old again crying over something so completely stupid. But it wasn't stupid this time, it was over something that made sense. And I didn't need to explain it to Jere for him to understand what was going on with me. He'd just wrapped me up tight in his arms and told me it was gonna be okay.
Maybe Jeremiah was right, maybe him implying having my mom here was a bad idea, is really a bad idea in the end.