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IF YOU NEED ME, CALL ME. I DON'T CARE IF I'M:
SLEEPING, HAVING PROBLEMS OF MY OWN OR MAD AT YOU
IF YOU NEED ME, I'LL BE THERE FOR YOU,
•••
• A R I A N N A•
My phone buzzes in my hand and I answer with a huff, pressing the phone to my ear without checking the caller ID.
"Hey princess," Adrian's smooth and silky voice greets me as I lean back against the door.
Murmuring a small "Hey" as my eyes roam freely around the walls of the childhood bedroom I grew up in. Cried over my first heartbreak in and had my first ever sleepover in. These four walls hold so many memories of when times were happier and uncomplicated. When times were good. Easy.
"How are you doing?" He asks and I hum, too busy staring at the wall lined with Polaroids, filled with memories. Of mum. of Zayn, Zach, Aaliyah and Amelia. Of dad. Of all of us.
"Hmm, good." I reply, twisting a lock of hair around my finger
"Really? Because you sound kinda distracted?" He muses with a chuckle, "If now's not a good time, I can always call back later," He offers and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
"Umm, no." I state, shaking my head and snapping myself out of it, walking over to my bed with the phone pressed against my ear. "It's alright," I assure him with a small sigh escaping me.
"What's up with you?" He asks a minute later.
"I just got into a fight with dad," I tell him and immediately bite down on my lip, cursing myself internally.
"Oh shit, is it serious? What happened?" He rattles off with a surprised gasp, leaving his lips. "On second thought, you don't have to answer that," He offers, waving it away.
"No, it's alright." I murmur quietly and it's quiet on the other line as I tuck a stay strand of hair behind my ear, but the ragged intake of breaths tells me he's still there and so I tell him. I tell him everything about my conversation with Zach earlier and him storming into his room the second we got home which led to my argument with dad.
"I understand the situation's changed, believe me, as much as I wish shit was different, I fucking understand. I do." I insist, releasing an irritated huff of breath, shuffling around and curling my legs underneath me. "But Zach was hardly twelve when mum got diagnosed and back then she was much healthier and now three years later, she's gotten worse and Zach's having to bear the brunt of it all," I explain with an exasperated sigh, chewing on my bottom lip, rolling the flesh around between my teeth.
