REMEDY [ninjago jaya]

18. Kicked Out

TW: Domestic Violence

• Nya Smith •

Lying to Jay felt like a hit to the gut.

But it was what needed to be done in order to stay low-key about her current unfortunate situation.

Nya's legs were cramping up from the hours she had to endure sitting on the couch in the living room, which was not even comfortable. It was white and polished and aesthetically pleasing, but it failed in its utility.

Her ears were bleeding from the hours of lecturing she had to sit through. Her mother, who was still wearing her emerald-green dress and four-inch heels (Nya couldn't even fathom how her mother hadn't broken a leg by now) from her ten-a.m. charity breakfast with the mayor, was walking in circles in front of her daughter whilst talking her ears off.

Mercy wasn't a thing for Nya. It had never been one. Whenever she misbehaved in her mother's eyes, she needed to be scolded and corrected. It had never mattered how many hours were going to waste for the scolding.

"I have not raised you this way, young lady," Maya said, her hands on her hips, her foot tapping on the carpet.

Nya refrained from rolling her eyes and telling her mother she had not raised her at all. This would have resulted in at least an hour longer she would have to sit on the couch.

Never had she wished she could go to school like she did at the moment. Anything was better than spending unnecessary time at the Smith residence.

"Going out with a lower-class junkyard boy?!" Maya seethed. "That is what's caught your eye? What did he give you, a little attention?"

Her mother sounded like a broken record trying to come back to life. Nya had already told her the truth.

"I don't care about where he lives or what his income is."

"It's not like he ever chose to live in a junkyard."

"Who are you to judge him when you don't even know what my favorite color is?"

The last question had caused half an hour of How dare you talk to your mother like that?

Nya was sick and tired of her mother's tirade. She was tired of having to live in the same environment as people who were living like royalty. She was tired of having to go to events and playing the perfect porcelain doll with no personality and own thoughts. Nya was tired of being a pawn in the Smiths' game.

"At least he has parents who actually love him!" Nya stood up and matched her mother's incredulous expression. "At least he can go home to a set of parents who are not full of themselves, or arrogant, or judgmental, or so fucking dense!"

Maya's lips thinned to a line Nya could barely see, which was usually a very bad sign, but today she couldn't find it in herself to care.

"You and your husband work all the goddamn time and don't give a single shit about my feelings!" Nya laughed hollowly. "But, of course, you do when it comes to Kai. He is the star child after all. He always does everything right. But I? I am thrown into beauty pageants and charity galas and paraded around like a show pony so you can feel better about yourselves!"

Maya's silence was eerie. From the corner of her eye, Nya could see the disapproving look her father was giving her from his spot on the vintage arm chair. He had been silent this whole time, and Nya was tired of it. His silence was equally as bad as her mother's constant complaints.

"Who I go out with and who I spend my time with is none of your business. You hear me? None."

Even with her high heels, Nya was almost as tall as Maya. The two looked like spitting images of one another—black hair, brown eyes, similar facial features.