bubba || c.b

28

Morgan's POV

As I wait for Mia and Colby to come out of his room I sit on the ground against across the hallway. Leaning up against the wall, I pull my knees up to my chest, place my arms on top of them and lay my head down.

What the fuck am I doing?

The closer we come to the end of this trip the shittier I feel. In 24 hours, Mia and I will be on a plane on our way back to New York. I will be ripping her away from the people she loves in less than that. My mom hasn't texted or called once, although I am not surprised. But for someone who fought me on this trip I thought she would be checking in on her daughter at least once a day. If it were just me she probably wouldn't even had noticed I was gone until she went to go drop off Mia at my place.

In a weird way, in three days I have felt more at home here in a hotel room than I do at my actual home. Just Mia and I, and the blue eyed boy we came here for. I wasn't looking forward to going back to my shitty apartment all alone, back to work 15 hour days, and I definitely wasn't looking forward to trying to sleep alone- not that I sleep anyway.

Sleeping in the same bed as Colby has given me the opportunity to get some of the best sleep I have had in a long time, and I know thinking of what we had these past few days will keep me up at night and make me slip back into my routine of work, try to sleep, repeat- quite literally nothing in between.

Mia will most definitely be pretty upset for a few days once we get home and I hope mom isn't too hard on her and she is able to overcome it. I'll be sure to have a conversation with her on the ride home, and Mia on the plane.

The thought of mom makes me grab my phone I had beside me and send her text:

Haven't heard from you, everything okay? See you tomorrow night.

And lock it again.

We never had the best relationship, she was always a good mom- providing for us the best she could, there when she needed to be. But she put Mckenzi and I through a lot of unnecessary trauma growing up, and wasn't really there for us emotionally. So when Mia was born I took over the roll of the "mom" at 12 years old. Hell I took care of Mckenzi and we are only a year apart. Although I don't regret it one bit, I definitely wish I didn't have to grow up so fast. I didn't go to parties, experiment with anything- drugs, alcohol, boys until I was 18 and moved out. Which later turned into an issue with no supervision.

One thing it taught me is that I never want kids. I never have, but raising Mia has shown me how difficult that shit is, and I hadn't even had to support her financially. I can't even take care of myself.

I definitely have had what some people would consider a rough life. But I try to remember that there is always someone who is struggling, or has struggled more than I had.

I hear the door across the hall open and bring my head from my arms with watery eyes and a half assed smile.

Make this good for her, make memories that she will remember forever.

"Okay?" Colby asks me while placing Mia on her feet who makes a mad dash to the elevator.

"Mhm" I reply standing up from the ground "C'mon, your friends are waiting."

I don't even look up at him before making my way to Mia. If I do I will cry, and he has seen enough of that to last a lifetime.

I hear him follow warily behind me but not say anything. Mia has stepped into the elevator and I follow, squeezing myself into the back corner and crossing my arms over my chest. Then Colby who hit the button for the ground floor and placed himself next to Mia in the center of the elevator, pulling her close. I watch her little hand grab onto his and begin tracing his tattooed arm- another coping mechanism I know she uses. And I instinctively start tracing my own.