New To This

Tough Times

Ziyah's POV

It's early in the morning, and I'm sitting in my desk chair looking at my lock screen also known as a picture of Daya. Things seemed so easy last year when we didn't have a label on our relationship and we were just interested in each other. But that's over and whether it takes extreme amounts of weed or other things I'm going to have to try to forget about Daya and to start doing that I have to stop being a bitch and stop staring at my lock screen. It only takes seconds, but I change Daya's photo to one of those wallpaper photos that comes with an iPhone. When I'm done I look at the portrait of her that I knocked down, and decide to keep it that way lying down on the floor.

I take a look at the fireworks lock screen of mine and like my phone knows I'm staring a text form Lucas pops up.

Lucas: Yo, Ella wants you to paint her air forces. Since Daya is messing with homeboy it shouldn't be a problem. You want her addy?

With that I just put my phone in my pocket and kiss my teeth. I have yet to tell Lucas off for the BS he pulled with Navia, and frankly I don't think i'm going to because I don't need to lose another person in my life. Lucas has always done messed up things, why should I punish him now? He doesn't even need to be punished, I'm the one who gave meaning to the lies he said at that Starbucks.

"Zi!" I hear Bree shout. It's one of those shouts that don't need a come here at the end because it's implied. Really only mom should be able to use those, but Bree is not one to mess with so I'm not gonna sit here making her wait. I leave Lucas on read and go into Bree's room where she sits on her bed holding some papers or books. I can't really tell what's in her hands until I walk closer into her room. It's the rehab pamphlets.

She closes one that she's looking through and lets out a sigh.

"You good?" I ask.

She pats a spot on her bed and I sit on it even though her bed is like 90% broken because of whatever she was doing on it during high school. She picks up both of the books and places them on her lap. "I know we had a lot of fun smoking and stuff, but when you asked me for my stash I wanted to die," she says. Her face is stern, but somehow she's still her casual self.

"I'm sorry I'll get weed from somewhere else," I say.

Bree rolls her eyes, but continues. "I'm going to rehab Zi." We stare at each other for a moment and I pick up one of the pamphlets. I flip through and look at all the photos that make this place look like a spa instead of a place for people who like popping pills. Seriously all the pictures are in front of a sunset and none of the people look fucked up, but like they're having the time of their lives.

"What made you decide this?" I close the book and put it back on her lap.

"I went to see dad when I wasn't drunk off my ass and I talked to him for a bit, and I don't know I just came to the conclusion that I might wanna try actual sober living." She shrugs her shoulders, and something is coming over me. That same thing that makes me want to smoke and forget everything.

Trying to control it I get up and lean against Bree's book case. "So you went to see him and you actually talked to him?" Wasn't she the one who first decided we weren't going to see or talk to him?

"Yea Zi, he's still my dad." I can't believe the words she's saying. And why is she talking like he's just her dad.

"Nah, he doesn't get that title not after the last 8 years." Bree puts her hand to her forehead and I run my hands through my dreads which is something I need to stop doing.

"Zi-," she begins in her tired mom voice, but I stop her.

"Bree he doesn't get to come back into our lives after what he did, and he can't just come here and ruin shit."