blocked (texts sequel)

replacement

"So how was last night with Ethan?" Bryant smiled at me, twirling his straw. I slightly coughed, caught off-guard by his question.

"Um... good." I nodded, sipping at my soda making sure to avoid eye contact.

"Sienna."

"What?" He gave me a look, one of those bitch tell me looks.

"What happened?"

"Nothing!"

"Tell me." He said sternly, setting his phone down and leaning forward.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone. And definitely not Grayson."

"I promise."

"I hooked up with Ethan last night."

"You WHAT?!" He yelled with his eyes wide.

"Shut up! Yes, I slept with Ethan but it was a mistake."

"When I said you too should hang out again I didn't mean fuck!"

"I know. I just missed Gray and it was in the moment. It was such a mistake and if I could take it back... I would."

"God, if Grayson finds out... he's gonna kill Ethan." Bryant covered his face with a hand and sighed.

"He thinks he's not good enough for me."

"What?"

"This morning, he came home while Ethan and I were asleep. He knocked on the bedroom door and I hid in the closet. He asked about last night and told Ethan he thought he wasn't good enough for me."

"Do you love him?" He asked.

"I love him, and I'm starting to think maybe we'd be better together."

"Go for him, Sienna. You know he misses you too." Bryant smiled and sipped his drink again. I stared off to the busy streets of LA, drinking my tea.

Go for him.

•

"Do it." I whispered to myself.

I hovered my thumb against the glass of my phone, contemplating whether or not I should press send. I moved my finger to the delete button and watched the text disappear.

"Not today."

I tossed my phone across my bed, flopping down on my sheets.

"Sienna, dinner!"

"Okay." I sat up and jogged downstairs.

"Spaghetti tonight. I know it's your favorite!"

I don't even like spaghetti that much.

My mom was sat at the table beside her long-term boyfriend, Rick, their fingers intertwined.

"What's um... what's going on?"

"Sit." She smiled, patting a dining chair. I hesitantly sat down and stared at her.

"So, I know your father died only a year and a half ago honey, but... Rick and I have been seeing each other for six months now."

"I've noticed."

"Well... he's going to move in with us. We've got this whole house to ourselves and Ricks lease is up in a few weeks anyways." She was clearly excited and though I was happy she was in love again, my heart couldn't help but crack.

I'm not ready to move on from my dad.

"Oh! Mom, I'm happy for you!" I lied.

"Thank you sweetie, I know it's hard. We both miss your father." She looked down slightly, a small twinge of sadness hidden beneath her iris.

"I would never try to replace your dad." Rick chimed in, his straight teeth revealed behind his thin lips.

"I know that, I'm not worried. I'm happy for you guys."

"Good! Thank you for handling this so well." My mom smiled and I flashed her one back, even if it was fake.

•

My eyes scan across the flaming horizon, colors drowning out the silhouettes of objects in the distance. I find myself out here more than often, just letting all my thoughts through the floodgates of my mind.

I'm in a tree, a large one— may I add— and the branch beneath me is protected by a wooden board so I can sit. I put the wooden board here a couple months ago. The other branches don't come high enough to cover my view so I'm able to see everything.

I found this place after Grayson and I broke up. After the tears had stopped, I would wander along my train of thought. Soon enough I made it to this hidden tree by the secluded part of the beach and I just stumbled in. The pine needles create a barrier around the trunk and wooden branches, making a dome shape to the outside world. The branch I'm sitting on pokes out of a hole in the greenery, making it a perfect seat to watch the sunset. Which is pretty much what I'm doing now.

For some odd reason, today my main focus is my dad. I can't seem to push him from my brain. I just want to make him happy, that's my goal in life. I want to do what he'd be proud of me for.

Right now, I'm not quite sure what that is.

Follow my heart? Make mom happy? Be successful?

It all jumbled up into one pile behind the floodgates, yet when I'm here they're all let free.

"Dad?" I whisper.

"What do I do? I want to make you and mom proud, but I also want to follow my heart."

Of course, I don't get a response. Though, my brain conjures up what he'd say.

Well honey, I'd always want you to do what you feel is right. Don't let anyone else tell you how to live your life. It's YOUR life for a reason.

And then he'd kiss me on the cheek and his stubble would scratch my skin.

It's my life.

It's your life. Think about it this way, when you're old and have children of your own, what kind of stories do you want to tell your children? Live your life the way you want your stories to be.

I want my stories to have no regrets. Maybe, leaving Grayson for good would be a regret. I can't imagine telling my children about a boy I fell in love with and never saw again.

Why not rewrite my pages and bring the two star crossed lovers together?