all of me (Gracie Abrams/You)

Chapter 4 - ice cream, tequila or pasta?

Y/N hated to be home. She would rather be anywhere in the world than here. But what choices did she have when she was the eldest daughter in a single-mother household filled with kids?

She and her mum were having another fight. Money was getting tight. Her mother was working an underpaid waitress job at the local diner, and the second oldest was too smart to just drop out of high school and work some shitty part-time job. In fact, it would be a shame for him to not go to college, in their mother's humble opinion. Do they have the money for college though? Well, that was where Y/N came in useful. She's been working since it was legal to, it wasn't much and she could never quite hold one job for long, but it was enough to keep the family alive. It was quick money, but she was tired of working at the lowest level of the pyramid. She would rather not work at all until she found a proper one than have another middle-aged woman scream her face off.

Not working at all until she found a proper job, however, was not an idea her mother was fond of.

"You have almost 10 years of damn working experience, how is it my fault you still can't get a job?!" her mother's voice boomed through the house.

Y/N paced around in their tiny apartment. She could literally pull her hair out of her scalp right now with how frustrated she was. "I've found a fucking job now, haven't I?" she yelled back. "What else do you want from me?!"

Her mother grabbed the first thing she could reach and sent it flinging across the living room. "You don't even know what kind of fucking job it is and how much it earns. I'm just trying to look out for you, and this is how you behave towards me?! I'll let you ignoring my calls and cutting my line slide, but I'm your fucking mother."

"You're their mother too, maybe fucking act like it first," Y/N spat out angrily, gesturing to the closed doors in the corridor. She wouldn't have wanted this screaming match in her siblings' presence, but she was getting so exhausted from this.

"I've been taking care of them."

"I have been taking care of them, not you."

If looks could kill, both of them would be long gone by now. Well, Y/N's temper had to come from somewhere. Her mother glared at her hard before crossing over the room. "Alright, fine, you love staying out so much these days, right? Get the fuck out of my house."

Technically said, Y/N paid a huge part of the rent. But before she could argue, the door already slammed shut in her face.

She had nowhere to go. No other family members. No friends. Well, she used to have friends, but when your life only revolved around earning money, it would kinda take the fun off you. She only had her stupid fucking delivery app and a bicycle, and all the free time in the world.

For the next four hours, she just ran errands for possibly every order that popped up in her app. It helped her take her mind off things, cycling recklessly around town. It was a miracle she didn't crash once. Her legs were burning and begging for her to stop. By now, it was well past midnight and she was about a hundred bucks richer. Should finally make her mother proud. She laughed at herself for even thinking that.

Another order popped up in her app.

One tube of cookies and cream ice cream, a bottle of tequila, and a box of rigatoni.

She sighed to herself and took off again. About fifteen minutes later, she stood in front of a really nice apartment complex. She waited a couple more minutes until she heard someone rushing out. Turning around, she was surprised to see a very familiar brunette, wearing nothing but a nightgown and some slippers. She squinted her eyes hard until she was sure enough. "Gracie Abrams."