Not Like Last Time

Chapter 12

After I got home from my shift my feet and legs ached and I kept yawning. My hand hovered on the door to my room before I remembered I was in the spare room now. It was extremely empty and bare, but what was the point of buying or bringing anything into it if I was going to move out?

I dozed in and out of sleep before going down to eat. Dinner was quiet, so I finally spoke up. "I got a job. That's where I was today."

"That's good, hun." Mom murmured absentmindedly, staring at her phone. I peered over her shoulder.

"A dating app? Already?" I exclaimed, frowning.

"I'm only looking, just to see." She glanced over at me, her expression blank.

"Uh-huh." I grumbled, scowling at my plate.

"It's not like I've made any matches yet." Mom said, setting her silverware down.

"You will, though." I retorted. And she would, she was pretty. She had long brown hair and a pretty face. She wasn't too fat or too skinny, and she was usually very nice. I don't know why I was so angry. I should be happy for her. But how could she move on from dad that quickly after 13 years?

"Is that a problem?" She asked exasperatedly, sighing heavily.

"No." I muttered finishing my dinner quickly and putting the plate in the sink. I felt a bit guilty for acting so rude, but I just didn't get it. I grabbed my notebook and pen.

Mom has a dating app. After 13 years of being married to Dad, I would've thought that she wouldn't have moved on so quickly. How could you move on so quickly after loving someone for 13 years and having a kid with that person? I guess I'm more upset that she didn't tell me first. It's kind of stupid, because it's her life and not mine, and I'm not a kid anymore. I can't say she isn't trying to replace him, because she is. It's not like he died, he left. Should I really be mad about her replacing him, then? Especially since he left because of me?

I stopped writing. Should I be mad? It felt like I should be, but maybe I shouldn't. He did leave because he didn't want a 'mentally unstable' child. That child being me, obviously. Before that, though, he'd been my dad. My loving, caring, amazing dad.

My dad who would pick me up when I fell, brush the dirt off and make sure I was okay. My dad who would take me biking when I was younger. He was always so kind and caring, and it was my fault he was gone.

Just like it's my fault Cassie's dead. Just like it's my fault that Mom has to find a dating app in the first place.

I closed the notebook and stared at the walls. I stared and stared until I fell asleep.

My alarm went off and I groaned. I dragged myself out of bed, I stared at a T shirt, then put it on. But my scars were too visible, lines all the way up to my elbow. I ran my thumb over them, and then pulled on a zip up hoodie.

I got some stares yesterday from wearing longer sleeves, and Jake had definitely noticed. So I decided on taking off the zip-up and just pulled on a long sleeved striped shirt. Tying my hair up as I walked out to my bike, I saw Cassie's mom outside in the garden.

I watched as she kneeled down over the garden and placed something in the flowers. When she stood up, I saw a small pot of white roses. I swayed on my feet. Roses, especially white ones, were Cassie's favorite. One day, she bought white roses and painted them red, as an Alice in Wonderland reference.

I tore my eyes away from the roses and rode to the restaurant as fast as I could.

"Let's paint these roses red."

"Like in Alice in Wonderland?" I'd asked.

"Exactly."

I parked the bike and went inside the restaurant as the memory of us painting the roses spilled over.