Past The Mistakes

16 | mountain dew

"Screw you," I laugh with a sniffle, making a move to stand up. Gracie giggles as she takes my hands, hoisting me up. My legs feel like jelly, but I lean on Gracie.

I can lean on Gracie.

I have her.

When my grandfather left, I had nobody. My aunt was so consumed with sorrow that I knew she couldn't deal with my pain. I didn't have him either.

I think I actually hate him.

He left me alone without a goodbye.

And he blocked me on his phone.

2 months of what...

"Want me to order pizza? Half cheese and half pineapple?" Gracie asks me. "The pineapple side is for you, obviously."

"Keep your disgusting food preferences to yourself," I roll my eyes. "As if I'd ever want fruit on my pizza."

She walked me into the living room and onto the red puffy couches that she had gotten from her uncle.

"I still refuse to sit on those," I say, eyeing it wearily, resisting her pushing.

"I literally had it professionally cleaned. Would you really rather sit on the wooden dining chairs than this fluffy ol' thing?"

"I would be crazy not to."

"You just had a panic attack. Dial down on the 'tude."

I'm trying to breathe. I'm trying to distract myself.

"I am not showing any attitude," I counter as I walk into the kitchen, leaving Gracie to lie on her stupid couch alone. I was so thirsty. All my crying had depleted all the water in me. I was shaking with nerves, and I tried to focus on the cool tiles beneath me.

"You're a sassy ass, Laylie," Gracie sings as she walks into the kitchen, throwing her pin-straight blond hair over her shoulder. I raise a brow as I open the fridge to grab a water bottle. I focus on the coldness of the bottle and the roughness of the ridges of the cap. "Dude, we have to go out today. I think you and I both need a break."

I freeze and dread washes over me like a bucket of ice. I didn't even feel thirsty anymore.

"I'm not going anywhere," I state with finality. Gracie wouldn't dare push me. She might complain, but she would never make me do anything I didn't want to. It's one of the things I loved her.

"Why?" she exasperated, huffing like a child about to throw a tantrum over not getting ice cream for dinner. "Len is having a game night at his parent's house since they're in Italy. They have a pool table, ping pong table, and everything... It would be criminal not to go!"

Now it made sense... Lennox Fremont.

"You could have just said you want to go because of Lennox," I chuckle, leaning against the fridge to watch as Gracie's cheeks flush red and her eyes widen like saucers

"Girl, don't start. Len just happens to be the owner of the house. I'm going for the vibes, the people, and the games," she says, attempting to be cool.