Chapter 8

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Ellen's POV

"Cuz I'm only human! And I bleed when I fall down! I'm only human! And I crash and I break down! Your words in my head, knives in my heart! You build me up and then I fall apart." Laura sang quietly.

I mean, I feel bad for her, but she needs to do this.

I pulled up to the Lynches neighborhood.

They had one of the 24/7 sercurity guards.

"Hello, what is your name?" The guard questioned

"Ellen Marano"

"Who are you here to see?" The man asked.

"Stormie and Mark Lynch," I responded.

"Ok, let me call them to see if you can come," The man picked up the phone and dialed Stormie's number. "Hello? Yes, we have a visitor. Her name is Ellen Marano... Send her down? Ok, good day Stormie,"

I smiled slowly. "Can I go?"

"Yeah, she said she was expecting you today," The man opened the gates and I drove through.

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Rydel: GUYS! SOMEONE IS KNOCKING ON THE DOOR! *silence* GUYS! *more silence* JEEZ, DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE! *turns and storms to the door*

Ryland: Wait, what did she say??

Ross: *shrugs*

Rydel: *opens the door mumbling about the boys under her breath*

Laura: Uh, hello?

Rydel: Oh are you Laura?

Laura: Yeah, that's me...

Rydel: *squeals* GREAT TO MEET YOU! OH MY GOD! EEK! FINALLY ANOTHER GIRL TO HANG OUT WITH!

Laura: *slighty smiles* Uh... yeah...

Rydel: Oh and who is this little cutie?!

Laura: Uh, that's my daughter... Dani

Rydel: OH MY GOD! THIS MEANS I AM GOING TO BE AN AUNT!! *squeals* Dani, me and you can go shopping and do our nails and our hair and talk about boys, when your older! We are going to be the BEST of friends!!

Ross: It's only year, Rydel

Rydel: W-what?

Ross: It's an arranged marriage, stupid. We only have to be with eachother for a year and than we can split up.

Laura: Which we WILL be doing.

Rydel: Splitting up? But why??

Laura: It's a long story

Ross: Long story short, we are just enemies.

Rydel: NO FAIR! UGH!

Ross: It's not fair to us we are forced to be married!

Laura: How did Maia take the news?

Ross: Why would you care about my personal life?

Laura: W-well if we are gonna live together and be forced to date, than we might as well get to know eachother!

Ross: Yeah, yeah. Anyways. what was your question again?

Laura: How did Maia take the news?

Ross: Maia? What news?

Laura: The fact that, oh I don't know, we are getting married and Maia is your girlfriend? How did she take the news?

Ross: Oh fuck! Maia!

Laura: Oh good one

Ross: *grabs phone and starts texting Maia*

To: Maia

From: Ross

Hey, wanna hang out?

To: Ross

From: Maia

Sure! Where do u wanna hang?

To: Maia

From: Ross

My plc? I don't really wanna go anywhere right now

To: Ross

From: Maia

Sure! C ya in a min babe! 😘

To: Maia

From: Ross

Yeah

To: Ross

From: Maia

Luv u ❤️

To: Maia

From: Ross

Ok, bye

To: Ross

From: Maia

Y didn't u say "luv u 2????" 😡

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Ross: I'm not even gonna respond.

Laura: Ok

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Laura: *quickly opens the door*

Maia: Um. Why are you here?

Laura: ROSS!

Ross: *comes running down*

Maia: Ross? Why the fuck is she here?

Ross: Come sit down...

*Ross, Maia, and Laura all sit down*

Maia: What

Laura: Ross's parents have um well...

Ross: Decided to umm

Laura: Arrange a marriage...

Raura: Between the both of us...

Maia: Wait... ROSS! YOU! ARE! GETTING! MARRIED! TO! SLUT?!!!

Laura: It's not his choice!

Maia: STAY OUT OF THIS LITTLE MISS SLUT! ROSS! START! TALKING!

Ross: SHE IS NOT A SLUT!

Maia: If she's not a slut, than how come she had a kid!

Ross: Becasue! I... know the father of her child...

Laura: Ross.... You don't have too...

Ross: But I want too. Maia, I'm the father of Laura's baby

Maia: SO THAT MEANS YOU HAD SEX WITH HER WHILE WE WERE DATING!

Ross: Uh yeah but-

Maia: NO! I AM DONE! FIRST YOU GET HER PREGNANT THEN YOU ARE GETTING MARRIED!

Laura: IT'S NOT HIS CHOICE MAIA!

Maia: No! No. I'm done. Fuck you! Fuck all of you! Every single one of you! Fuck your ugly child! Fuck your family. Fuck it all. YOU WILL PAY LYNCH! SO WILL YOU SLUT! AND I KNOW JUST HOW TO GET TO YOU BOTH! *smirks* You better watch that daughter of yours.

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