Since You - A WWC Spin Off

4; Teenagers

Eli

When I got home, mum and her boyfriend Clay were watching TV. They were cuddled up on the couch together, a glass of red wine in my mum's hand. They barely lifted their heads at my arrival.

"Hi, darling, how was your day?" Mum asks, her eyes still on the screen.

"Good," I mumble back. I head into the kitchen and grab some juice out of the fridge.

"What did you learn at school today?" Clay asks me. 

"Just the usual," I reply, taking a sip out of my glass.

"Multiplication?"

I wince. "Yeah, I learnt that when I was six."

Clay was a businessman and he had been with my mum for a few months now, which didn't feel like a very long time but apparently it did to them because he had basically moved in with us. He still had his own place, according to him he had many places, but he stayed here to be with my mum, much to my dismay. But it wasn't like I got a say in anything. Clay didn't know what teenagers were, and the way he awkwardly interacted with me showed it. 

"Cut the attitude, Eli," mum snaps.

"I didn't-"

"Apologise to Clay."

They're both looking at me now.

I sigh. "Sorry, Clay," I mumble.

"No worries, kiddo," Clay replies.

The two look back at the TV and mum starts playing with Clay's hair, toying her fingers between his curls. I roll my eyes and head to my room.

I dump my bag down and then throw myself onto my bed. I begin to scroll through my phone, pulling up social media apps and checking up on what I've missed. I come across Bec's new post on Instagram, a candid of her that is definitely forced. She's standing in her backyard at home, I know it's her house because I recognise the swing set in the background. It was hers when she was younger but we still used to use it. We'd swing at night and talk about our future together. 

I click onto her profile and look at her other photos. I had seen them all a dozen times. I looked at her profile a lot. Her bio, which used to say taken, now says single. I scroll to the pictures of her with guys. Most of them are at parties and she's very clearly drunk. All of the photos of me and her are well deleted. 

I exit out of Instagram and open my gallery in my phone before finding the folder titled 'Bec.' In there are approximately 300 photos of Bec that I haven't deleted yet. I start looking through, just like I always do.

There's photos of her that I've taken, some where she's known but a lot where she hasn't. I've captured her when she's eating, thinking, laughing. There's selfies she's sent me herself, there's selfies of us both together. Us kissing, us laughing, us smiling. There's pictures of her in her underwear, pictures I took of her in our most intimate moments or private pictures that she sent me herself. I look through them all, reminiscing on what once was. 

A message pops onto my phone from Carl. I click into it.

Carl: What's up?

Me: Just doing some homework, hby?

Carl: Need some help

Me: With what?

Carl: Jordan

Me: Did she like the flowers?

Carl: Yes

...