Delicate

parental figure

୭ ˚○◦˚. Theo ୭ ˚○◦˚.

"Down bad crying at the gym"

March 10, 2005

"Theo," My sister—Ivory—grinned at me as I entered the kitchen, "Who was that leaving?"

That would be Gracelyn.

I'd been into Grace for a while now, but we only just started hooking up. She wanted nothing more than a quick fuck and then to run off, which was not my usual style.

I liked to get to know girls, especially girls that looked like Gracelyn. But I also knew better than to push for more, when she didn't want or believe in love.

"My friend Grace," I shrugged, pulling a pack of chicken breasts out of the fridge.

"Your girlfriend?" My other sister—Mia—teased, "She practically ran out of here like it was life or death."

"Not my girlfriend," I shook my head, "And yeah, she had things to do."

I grabbed a pan from the cupboard and placed the chicken breasts onto it, before selecting the seasonings I wanted to use.

I had a thing for cooking. It was forced on me a few years back after mam died because dad is never home and the girls need someone to cook for them.

So I learned.

"Can you help me with my maths?" Ivory frowned, blowing eraser dust off her paper.

"After I make dinner I can," I nodded, "Or Mia, can you see if it's something you understand?"

Mia—who's thirteen—is only a few years older than Ivory who's eleven. Making me the eldest and pretty much the parent of my two younger sisters.

"Fine," Mia groaned, grabbing Ivorys paper.

Shit.

The topic of maths reminded me hadn't even touched the maths project I was doing with Cassandra—who literally did everything in her power to ignore my existence.

I didn't know much about the girl, other than that she used to go out with Stephan McGarry and it ended really bad. There was talk of him raping her but apparently the case was dismissed.

And I guess from that rumours began spreading and now it was a jumble of lies.

In my opinion it was fucked to not believe the girl. I didn't know what exactly had gone down but the sheer fact that people began attacking her and not him had me mind blown.

"It's multiplication, Ivy," Mia huffed, using the nickname we had for Ivory—which was created because Mia use to not be able to say her R's, "It's basically common sense."

"Not to me," Ivory sighed, "I like art, not this stupid maths shit."

"Hey," I shook my head, "Watch the language."

"Theo's going to ground you," Mia snickered, before yanking the pencil out of Ivory's hand, "Here, I'll teach you."

"When's dad coming home?" Ivory asked the question I dreaded most in the world.

Because I didn't know when my father was coming home and I didn't want him to come home.

"I don't know, Ivs," I sighed, placing the chicken into the oven.

"Do you think it'll be soon?" She pried.

"I don't know," I said in a harsher tone than I intended.

"Well, do you know-"

"He said he doesn't know," Mia snapped, making my eyes widen.

I was Mia's age when mam died, and when I started realizing dad was fucked in head. I knew Mia was starting to catch onto that as well, but Ivory was still clueless—or at least as clueless as she could be.

"All I did was ask," Ivorys eyes welled with tears.

Fuck my life.

"Please don't cry, Ivs," I crouched down beside her, "I'm sorry. We just really don't know when dad will be home."

"I miss mam," She sobbed, "And dad."

"I know," I nodded, pulling her in for a hug, "But we've got each other."

"And that's better than parents," Mia forced a smile, giving Ivory a nod of agreement.

"Can we get ice cream?" Ivory sniffled, wiping her tears away.

"Sure," I nodded, "After dinner and homework."

"Yay," She smiled, returning to her maths homework.

I'd take a temporary smile any chance I could.

After I made dinner and had Mia help me with the dishes, I headed up to my room to attempt to start on homework.

I wasn't a swot by any means but I did well enough.

I was just about to crack open my maths textbook when my phone pinged and a notification from an unknown number popped up. I scanned it and read the message 'It's Cassandra, can you do your part of the project so we can hand it in?'

I groaned, annoyed by how fast she expected it to be done.

She must be a good student.

I texted a quick 'sorry, kind of struggling with it' and tried my best to at least get part of it done. I was hoping she'd offer to help me, but knowing the tiny bit I did about her, I doubted she would.

I also checked my phone to see if Grace had texted—which she hadn't. I might just be losing my mind over a girl with practically no interest in me.

But that's how I'd always been, I always picked the girls who were hard to read.

So, trying to distract myself from Grace, I got to work on my maths and blocked out the fucked up mess that was my life.

Because it was getting to be a joke at this point.

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this is so shit i'm so sorry.
i'm literally dead from working hospital shifts fml

i love you

xoxo

-Freyja