Its Not So Hard After All

Chapter 3.

I quickly hid the guitar under my bed and looked out my window to see Jake outside my window grinning sheepishly.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"He's back." He said firmly.

"Oh, The guest rooms clear." I said smiling.

I let him in my room and half hugged him. "You'll be alright, right?" I said lightly punching him.

"I'll be fine."

Jake's father died recently and her mom fell in love with a wealthy man but the guy didn't love Jake as much as she loves Carrie, Jake's mom.

Since we have two guest rooms, the bigger one became the boys' second room. They left some clothes there so that they can sleep over whenever they want to.

"Should I tell Sophie that I'll be staying?"

"Nah, I'll handle it." I said winking.

"Well, okay. If you need me I'll be chilling in the room."

"Yeah, you do that." I said pushing him out of my room.

My mom went in with a dinner tray a little after Jake left my room. She placed it on my bed and I quietly thanked her. I was supposed to tell her about Jake but she beat me to it, "Jake's eating dinner downstairs. Is Paul back?" I nodded in reply.

"Take a bath after eating. Call me when you're done. I'll change your bandage."

"Sure, mom." I smiled.

Mom brought me up a plate of fish fillet and rice. She also prepared a chocolate milkshake for me.

After eating, I went in my bathroom, removing the bandages.

Getting in the tub was a big struggle. I had to hold on to anything that can support me. I silently thanked myself for picking a bathtub instead of a shower.

Mom prepared me a bubble bath and I absolutely have no idea when she made it.

I closed my eyes once I was in the tub.

My mom must have plugged in my phone because I heard The 1975's Chocolate softly playing in the background. I silently hummed along.

This was one of the times when I think because I felt more relaxed when I'm taking a bath.

A thought suddenly came up. It had been bothering but most of the time the idea would pop in my head.

When I was 11 years old, I'd hear my parents yell at each other. One of the conversations was about telling Ryan and I something. There was one time when they were arguing in front of Ryan and I. Ryan was trying to drag me out of the living room when I started crying. Our parents saw this and they cried too. They hugged the two of us and said a thousand sorry's and that night was the time when Dylan was made.

Ever since that day, we became united and inseparable.

Years after I would wonder it was about but I'd think about something else. I don't want troubling myself with it. If my parents were ready to tell us, they would.

After my bath, I got out and called my mom. I put on one of dad's old t-shirts, because large shirts are comfortable, and some boxers. I lay down on my bed and mom came in after a while.

"Your feet's looking better, a little swollen but better." My mom said nodding in approval.

"And it doesn't really hurt that much anymore too." I added.

"Which means you're making progress."

I smiled in reply.

After mom put on new bandages around my ankle she quietly left the room and blew me a kiss.