Ignorance ➵ h.s. au

eighty eighth

"You're always out with him lately . ." Milla states, "I better not see you hanging out with those bad influence people he hangs out with, because if Matilda can stomach him becoming an absolute heathen, I'll certainly not let you end up the same."

Dani's jaw clenched from the remark, reminding herself of her snarky comment about Blinché back in Carter's game. She didn't even know anything and she's already jumping to conclusions about what people are. It's not surprising she thought the same with Carter's friends as well even though she didn't seem to have a problem with them back then. After all, she doesn't let a chance pass when it comes to judging people based on their looks and demeanor. If she can easily do that with strangers, it's out of the question she will towards her children as well. "It's alright, mum, you don't have to worry about anything." She mumbled, taking her eyes away from Milla.

She had no idea what she was still doing there, and where she was getting the confidence to do so. How was she supposed to deal with this? It's like every second which passed only increased her reasons to be agitated. Even sitting in front of them felt wrong for a variety of different reasons; her pathological lying, and the grinding of teeth crawling up her ears. Suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore. "I'm going to get ready for school, I don't want to be late." She hitched, getting up from her chair.

"Hold on, you haven't even touched your breakfast yet--"

"I'll pack and eat it on my way there." She says, hurtling out of the kitchen before her mother could say anything and running up the stairs, Milla's calls for her to return echoing throughout the house but Danielle doesn't turn back. She didn't know what she was even expecting when she came down, perhaps that her mother would understand she was exhausted, but she knew her too well to be aware she won't. Milla never let them skip classes unless she had proof one of them was sick, and she is, but this was beyond different.

Making sure to lock her door to avoid any more confrontations, Dani showered and got dressed in her uniform, combing through the tangles of her wet blonde hair in front of a mirror. She was a complete chaos; the fabric of her blouse creased, and her eyes and nose puffy from last night's episode in the bathroom. She's surprised no one has pointed it out. Nevertheless, those were the least of her worries. There was no way she was going to school today anyway, but at the same time it wasn't going to work to simply say she's sick, so she had to improvise. The good thing was they didn't have to see it when she heads straight into Harry's backyard. It wasn't going to be easy, for Milla keeps an eye out for her bike and her route, but all she had to do was stop just enough houses away from their line of sight and wait for their car to leave.

On a second thought, that was absolutely nothing compared to what should happen later on once they're gone, she almost wishes Milla would catch her and ground her instead. She's going to come up to his house and knock, and then she needs to talk to him. However, she hasn't rehearsed yet what she was supposed to do once she sees Harry again after two goddamned weeks, butterflies raging through her stomach just from the thought of it. How is she even going to start with what she has in her back? If she wasn't prepared for the revelation, he certainly won't be either, and perhaps this is a bad idea. But the uncertainty of his reaction deepened her desperation even more.

Dani slipped into her shoes, pulling out Harry's phone from her bottom drawer and shoving it along the mess in her backpack, gathering everything she needed for the day as well including her painkillers. She found herself pausing and staring at the contents of her bag, the pregnancy test stick still laying in her sink, untouched. Would it make any difference if she showed it to him? She's already pregnant, what's the worst that can happen at this point, right? And she can't leave it there forever, nor the trash bin. She heads into the bathroom and popped the stick into one of the pockets, stepping out of the room once she was finished. "Mother, I'm off to school!" She addressed as she treaded down the stairs; Alfred scurrying around the living room whilst Milla sat by their couch, crouched over the coffee table and scribbling something on a piece of paper.