Bring It, Bitch ➳ Harry Styles {completed and editing}

Chapter 37: Mommy Issues

Rayla's POV

"Thanks for the awesome day," I snorted as Harry pulled up in front of my house. "It was amusing watching you flirt with a gay cop."

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed it because it's never happening again," Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Never again."

I giggled and opened the door, stepping out as daintily as I could. "Thank for the ice cream, too," I added, making him smile.

"No problem. We'll have to talk about the details of our trip later."

"Our trip?"

Harry grinned and tapped a random beat on the steering wheel. "Vegas."

"Oh..." I trailed off. This was going to be fun to explain to my parents. "Okay, I'll text you," I said, my voice coming out an octave higher than it usually was.

Harry chuckled and put his car into reverse, backing out of the driveway and disappearing down the road. I turned to face my house, but a movement in the window caught my attention. The curtains were moving far too much for it to only be a draft passing by.

I unlocked the front door and stepped into the foyer, only to have both my parents standing across the room at the doorway to the living room, both of them glowering. "Who was that?" My dad demanded, getting straight to the point.

My felt my face become hot and my palms began to sweat. "My friend."

"What's his name?"

"H-Harry."

"You mean that troublemaker you had to do your project with? I thought you said you never spent time around him?" My mother's voice was sharp as a razor blade and I bit my lower lip.

"He's really a nice-"

"I don't care!" My mom shouted, stunning both my father and I. "I won't have my daughter gallivanting around with a drug addict! You have the best grades in your graduating class, Rayla. You're most likely going to be the valedictorian. Both Yale and Cambridge are looking to have you attend in the Fall semester. Do you really think it's fitting for someone like you to be hanging around some bum?"

I had never heard my mother this angry or stern before. "Mom, schools don't look at what kind of people I hang around-"

"But we do," my dad interjected. "We're worried that he's a bad influence on you. After all, he's a heavy marijuana user."

"I believe you're concerned about me, dad," I said dryly, feeling a surge of anger and confidence. "But I think mom's a bit more concerned about how what I do with my life reflects on her and her precious reputation."

"I care about you, Rayla!"

"I don't think-"

"Rayla Bethany Johanna-"

"Shut up!" I screamed, making both my parents fall completely silent as their eyes widened in shock. "For once in your life, just shut up and let me talk!" My voice wavered and cracked a bit, but it was now or never. I had their attention and there was no going back.

"I try so hard to be everything you want and even more. I try so hard that I completely forgot to be who I really was. I told myself that I didn't want to go to that party because there might be alcohol. I didn't want to go to movie nights because they might go past 8:30 and I wanted to be back home because I had school the next day. Well you know what?" I pressed my lips together and mustered every bit of courage I had to look my parents in the eye.

"I don't want to try anymore. I'm tired of trying and I'm tired of keeping up an act. Because you know what? This is bullshit. If you can even call this a life, it's a life not worth living."

My mother's eyes widened and her mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Wha-I-Rayla Bethany Johanna Maddison Evangeline Renée Shroeder, you watch your language young lady!" She sputtered, her face turning red. "You do not speak to your parents like that!"

"What? I'm not supposed to speak the truth?" I asked incredulously.

My mother huffed and stormed closer to me, her hands grasping onto my arms to hold me into place. "You are not to see that boy again, you understand me? I care about you, Rayla, though you don't want to admit it to yourself because you're having some little teenager tantrum. I want to see you excel in life and that boy will get you no where closer to Ivy League or your dream job. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. Now go to your room. We'll talk about this later when you've calmed down and you're in your right mind."

I tried to protest but my mother held her hand up, her eyes glaring daggers at me that warned me not to push her any further. I huffed and stormed up the stairs, stomping as loud as I could.

I threw the door to my room open, flopping down onto my bed. A soft sob escaped my lips as I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. Was it really too much to ask? I just wanted a little bit of affection with less pressure to be perfect. But apparently according to mom, that wasn't an option.

Yes, it was true that I had Ivy League schools looking to get me to enroll with them in September, but what I had worked for hadn't come so easily. If I got a grade less than 93% in a class I freaked out because I knew it wasn't enough to secure a spot in Yale or Cambridge.

I was pushing myself to the limit without my parents there to support me. They were only there to pressure me and push me to get into Ivy League.

I sat up and wiped the tears away that had escaped. No use crying, I told myself, folding my hands onto my lap and letting out one last sniffle. Crying won't do anything to help my situation. Self-pity is for the weak.

Something else I taught myself when I didn't have my dad nor my mom there. Self-pity only weakens you. I'm my only asset, and when push comes to shove the only one I can depend on is myself.

-----------------------

I feel so sad for Ray omg

QUESTION OF THE DAY #2: What do you guys want to be when you get older? This one is actually relevent to me because I just graduated (I didn't trip when I crossed the stage thank god XD) and I had to choose my courses for university. I would like to either become a histiry teacher, maybe a professional writer or an interior designer :)

The last three chapters of this hecta-update will be posted tomorrow!

Vote, comment and follow! <3

Lots of love and a Horan Hug,

-Bliss xx