Metanoia // George Ezra Fanfic

To Family

It is Thanksgiving morning. 

Two days had passed since I had met George Ezra Barnett, broken up with Samson Oxford, and washed my hair.

However, today wasn't a day that I could slack off or lay about in my misery, like I had been. Staring up at the ceiling, I thought about everything I had to get done today before 4:00 this afternoon, where I was expected to show up at my Uncle Elliot's house with a bright smile and bells on. 

My only concern was that my entire family was also expecting me to bring Samson. I hadn't told them that Samson and I had broken up yet. Or that he cheated on me. 

In fact, the only people I told were Samson, George, and my best friend Emma, who kindly offered to cover my shift at work so that I could lay about for a day or two. 

I glance at the clock, to find that it reads 11:30 in the morning. 

Sighing, I push my pale green comforter off me, analyzing the state of my very messy bedroom. There were dishes on my bedside table, tissues littering the floor, and piles of clothing spread all around the room. Slowly, careful not to tread on any of the tissues near my bed, I crossed the room to grab a pair of white skinny jeans and a blue and white button up shirt. 

This would be nice enough for Thanksgiving, right?

I step out of my room, into the small living area that had clutter on most surfaces, but was otherwise clean-ish. It looked like most of the clutter belonged to my roommate, Larisa. I didn't know where Larisa was, but I could assume she had gone home to visit her family for the weekend. 

Larisa and I didn't dislike each other, but we weren't close either. She spends most of her time closed in her room, playing video games in her free time, or out doing who-knows-what. She was fine, but she wasn't friendly. 

It suited me just fine. She hadn't ever eaten any of my food, shrunk any of my clothes in the dryer, or used my shampoo (from what I could tell). The living arrangement worked just fine. 

In the next few hours, I take a shower, attempt to curl my hair, and put a respectable amount of effort into my general appearance. The sweet potato casserole that I have been asked to bring to Thanksgiving dinner only takes about an hour to make. When I pull it out of the oven, the scent of brown sugar and vanilla wafts through the entire apartment. 

I glance in the mirror at my appearance once more before I leave my apartment. There are dark circles under my eyes that no amount of make-up could truly cover. I silently hope that my outfit is good enough for the occasion. 

Uncle Elliot has a lot of opinions on how young women should dress, behave, and aspire to. And he doesn't mind sharing his opinions. 

I text my Mom, "On my way."

A minute later, she texts back, "Great! Love you! See you soon!"

It's a forty five minute drive to my uncle's house. I pull outside his traditional, white southern home. It was built in the early 19th century and every bit of the house looks as though someone very wealthy owns it. The inside of the house is just as regal. 

Ruby answers the door with a pink lipped smile, "Everly!  How was your drive from the school?"

I immediately know that I'm underdressed when I see Ruby's classic black dress and blue high heels that contrast dramatically with her red hair. The name Ruby matches her appearance perfectly. 

"Fairly uneventful." I shrug, stepping into the warm house.

Ruby squints her blue-gray eyes, looking outside the house expectantly, "Where's Samson?"