Chapter 13.1

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Olivia

Olivia
"Wake up, sleepyhead."

What time is it? I check my phone on the side table, 1 P.M. I guess I might've slept for a little longer than I expected. But that wasn't enough motivation to get me out of bed.

"Liv, I love you, but if you don't get up right now, I'll pour this glass of water all over you and your sheets are gonna be all wet again and we all know that you absolutely hate-"

Even though I don't want to, she's right, I should probably get out of bed. "Alright. I'm up! I'm up! See! No need to make rash decisions, sweetie."

She makes a disgusted expression, "Don't call me that again. Like ever."

"Aww, why not?"

She smiles, "No offense, but you saying the word sweetie just doesn't sound right. It's sounds as good as me singing."

That makes me laugh, I love Tati but man, she's the definition of tone deaf. That doesn't stop her from singing all her favorite songs in the shower though. "That bad, huh?"

My stomach grumbles, "What's for breakfast?" I ask.

"Well, we had cereal for breakfast but I was planning on making enchiladas for lunch. Sound good?"

Yum. Tati learnt how to make Mexican dishes from her grandmother when she was eleven. Although, her grandmother died a few years ago, her recipes stayed. Dare I say, Tatis enchiladas might be better than the ones gran used to make. But I digress. With that thought, I brush my teeth and get into the shower.

By the time I'm done showering, the house smells amazing. Have I mentioned that Tati is an amazing cook? She can make almost anything and everything she makes somehow looks and tastes better than you can imagine.

"What smells so good?" I ask,

"It's the sauce, I decided to change up the recipe a bit. Here, have a bite."

She gives me a spoonful of the sauce and Holy shit. This tastes so good. It rivals the enchiladas in restaurants. "Oh my god, Tati, Why does it taste so good?"

She laughs, "A magician never reveals her tricks."

"Oh you're a magician alright. This is delicious."

After scarfing down those enchiladas, I went back to my room and decided to rummage through my old drawers. I found a stack of
notebooks under a pile of old papers and trinkets. I opened them and found out that these were my old sketchbooks. I'd always been a bit of an art freak — one of the few things I'd inherited from my mom. Almost all my drawings had been of flowers and iconic New York City landmarks. I'd stopped drawing when I entered middle school because one time, my aunt got really angry that I was drawing in my sketchbook instead of doing homework, and before I knew it, she snatched the sketchbook from me and ripped it up into shreds. What she didn't realize was that it wasn't just my drawings she was ripping apart, but also my heart. Since then I knew, that she didn't want me here.

I felt a tear sliding down my face as I tried to shove those painful memories away. Suddenly, I heard a bang from the door and when I looked to see who it was, it was Tati, running through the door, "Liv, come on it's time to do your makeu- Wait, why are you crying? What's wrong?"

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