-Davy-
I hand her my phone, she quickly types in her number and hands it back. My phone beeps, Hi, she's funny. I respond to her text, Hi.
"What kind of music do you listen to?" She asks with a sigh.
"You can't laugh...." I say.
"Why would I laugh?" She giggles.
"Ok...I listen to Sabrina Carpenter, Greta Van Fleet, and some other random artists too."
"No way, I literally love Sabrina Carpenter, she's amazing." She says, excited.
"Wow, ya I totally thought you were gonna laugh. What do you listen to?" I ask.
"I listen to well, Sabrina, obviously. And....some Marshmello, NF, Alan Walker, some Shawn Mendes sometimes too. And some Ava Max and Noah Cyrus too. It all depends on mood I guess."
"Ya, it really does."
"I haven't heard of that...Greta Van...something though." She says.
"Greta Van Fleet." I say, "Ya, they're a really talented rock band."
"Oh, sounds interesting."
"Ya we'll have to listen to them sometime," I smile.
"We will." She says
I love her smile. The more I look at her. Her hair, curly and wind-blown. Her eyes deep and wild. She is like me, lonely and misunderstood. I have internalized all my feelings for too long. It isn't healthy. I keep things bottled up inside, and most of my thoughts go unsaid. But that's probably best. I can't talk to my parents. They'd make me see a therapist. I ain't going to a therapist. And my sister is too busy with her own problems most of the time. She has a lot of trust issues, it kinda runs in the family. Anyway...
"Do you have any siblings," I ask.
"My step-mom has her two kids. Adam and Samantha. Adam is one year older than me and Samantha is my age. None of them are very nice to me." She makes a face, "Actually they're just plain rude and mean and emotionally abusive, but you know other than that." She puts her arm on her knee and props up her head, she gives an exasperated and sarcastic look. "How about you?"
"Umm...I'm sorry about your step-siblings-" She cuts me off.
"It's fine, now what about you?" She clearly doesn't want to stay on this topic long.
"I have a sister, she's two years older than me." I pause, emotionally abused isn't just something you throw around like that. "Okay, but what about your dad?"
She sighs, "He is too busy working and making sure there's money for my step-mom, Patricia, to do whatever she wants. He doesn't pay attention to me. Half the time I forget about him, it's really sad. You'd think that maybe my mom leaving us woulda made us grow closer and become inseparable...it did the opposite."
"Oh."
"Yep, that's my life," She says dryly.
"I'm sorry," I say, I try to sound apologetic. I think she needs a friend more than a boyfriend and honestly, I need a friend more than a girlfriend.....don't judge...that's just where my mind goes every time I meet a new girl...anyway.
"It's fine," she says, turning away slightly. I put my hand on her shoulder,
"Do you feel like talking about it?" I ask gently.
"I really don't." she says.
"Well I'll listen if you ever wanna talk."
"I know." She says, "I will too." Then she seems to space out, something that I know all too well.
YOU ARE READING
You Make Me Beautiful
Teen FictionHer mom left when she was only 9. Her dad has been drunk ever since. Her new step mom and siblings are horrible to her. She's alone. She doesn't feel like getting up in the morning. Somehow this changes. It's not just about her anymore, with great f...
