The Day Andi Went to Florida.

Chapter 8: I'm fine (not really).

I saw Niall standing there. I didn't know if heard the whole conversation between me and my dad. I didn't care if he saw or heard anything. I just, for once, wanted to let myself cry. Tears slowly fell as I answered him, "yeah, I'm fine." 

"No, no you're not." He said. I just sat in the sand and let him hug me. I knew that crying would make me feel much better, instead of bottling it up until I was able to go to the gym and hit something like when I was at home. I am a boxer and I play a variety of sports. Anytime I didn't get my way or I was angry or I just felt sad, I just simply went to the gym to get my mind off of everything. I rarely cried in front of anyone. My cousin always says that you must be really special if I cried in front of you. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Niall asks breaking the silence between us. 

I thought I might as well, I've already cried in front of him. "Well, when my parents got a divorce, my mom took me while my dad got visits. I rarely got to see my dad and I still rarely see him. He usually has the oldest excuses in the book. I really was excited for him and my little brother and little sister coming down for a week, because I finally moved out of my mom and step dad's house, I wanted them to see how I'm living now. They were supposed to come and visit after I got home," I paused so that I could breathe, but I got choked up on my tears, "But my dad couldn't take off of work. So no seeing my baby brother and baby sister. And no seeing my dad. You know, he doesn't even know that family is an important thing to me." I knew I was about to start a rant on just family, but I knew I had to get it out and hitting something wasn't going to make it better. "To me its like if you don't have a family, then you don't have anything. I love my family and I consider my friends as family." I stop. I knew I had to. I was just done. My eyes had stopped watering, and I didn't want to seem like a girl who complained a lot to random people.  

"I understand. My parents got a divorce, too." He said, "I lived with my dad." 

"Yeah, but did your mom make an effort to see you? Did she try her best to know if you're okay? When I was younger, my dad would call me like once or twice every few months." I continued. 

"Oh, I didn't know." He said almost upset. "I'm sorry." 

"No, no, don't be sorry. I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who is taking their anger out on someone who is just trying to help." I say trying to comfort him.  

"It's fine." He says. It's quiet for a while. Neither of us dare make a sound. The only sound you hear is the waves hitting the shore. "So, what do you do? You know back where you're from." He asks trying to make conversation. 

"Well, I box, play soccer, I co-own a business, I am a substitute teacher, a consultant for a purse company, and I play the guitar." I answer. 

"Really? You play the guitar?" He asks.  

"Yeah, I play." I answer happily. 

"Maybe we could have a jam session." He says. "Do you have your guitar with you?"  

"Yeah, I bring it with me everywhere I go. That way I can play whenever I want." I reply.