No Strings Attached (SUSPENDED)

Chapter 15

The house is silent, a rare occurrence in this family. The absence of my father is obvious, but I'm not complaining. It's nice to wake to the sound of birds rather than the sounds of arguing. I wonder how it feels to be normal. I'm the opposite of normal. My family is a mess, my school life is a mess, fuck, I'm a mess. I wish, just for one day, I could be a normal teenager, with a happy family, friends who don't betray me and perhaps even a free pass from bullies. But life doesn't work that way. I don't have a fairy god mother, a genie or even an evil witch to sell my soul to in exchange for happiness. Life is real and it's unfair and you simply must deal with that.

A knock at my door drags me from my thoughts. I shout a quick come in and my mother walks in. I smile a small smile at her, but don't get one in return. She's pissed.

"Breakfast is in 20 minutes," she says before leaving my room and leaving the door open a few inches. She knows that pisses me off. I roll out of bed with a huff, shut my door and begin to get ready for school. I don't dress cute for school; I don't need any more attention. I simply wear jeans with a plain, oversized jumper.

I check my phone as I stroll down the stairs. Nothing. It's strange not hearing from Madison every day. I miss her a lot, but she hurt me a lot more and I need to remember that. I tuck my phone into my jeans pocket and walk into the kitchen. My mother is plating up our breakfast. It's strange having breakfast made for me. I usually make myself toast to walk with while my parents busy themselves with arguing.

I take a seat at the table, muttering a small thanks to my mother before starting to eat the bacon omelette on my plate. She sits opposite me and we eat in silence. I clear my throat and move to get a glass of orange juice. I offer my mother one and she nods. I hear her take a breath as soon as I turn my back.

Here we go.

"Where was you last night?" she asks with an attitude. I roll my eyes knowing she can't see and continue pouring my juice.
"I was out with Maddie," I lie. I don't know why she's pretending to care now; she's been so concerned with proving my dad wrong that she hasn't had time for me for a long time. As soon as the thought goes through my head, anger bites at me.
"Why do you care?" I say, returning the attitude she gave me seconds before.
"Because I'm your mother," she all but shouts. I scoff at her, slamming the fridge door and sitting back at the table with my drink.
"Finally acting like one, are you?" I reply with a sarcastic smile. Her face hardens at my words and I know I've crossed a line.
"Alexa, you're so ungrateful! Don't you dare call me a bad mother; I am good to you. You could be like Madison and have parents who don't give a damn. But no, I'm present and I put food on the table and give you a roof over your head, so don't you dare," she leaves the table as she's ranting, throwing her food in the bin and scrubbing the plate into an inch of its life.
"How can you say you're present, Mom? Sure, you're here physically, and sure, you put food on the table and all that shit. But you're not present. You couldn't give two shits about me. All you care about is hating dad. So, don't try and pick a fight with me now he's gone," I growl. I get up, grabbing my bag from the cloak cupboard.
"Well if that's not good enough for you, princess, why don't you go and find somewhere else to stay? Maybe then you'll appreciate what I do for you," she argues. The words feel like a kick to the stomach, but I don't show her that. I simply shake my head at her before marching out and slamming the door behind me.

* * *

The lunch bell rings. The feeling of dread in my stomach hasn't settled since I left my house this morning. I really have no idea where I'm meant to stay tonight. Maddie is out of the question, my dad has gone AWOL, and that pretty much sums up my options. I know that if I go home, my mother won't turn me away, she just said everything out of anger. She'll feel awful soon enough. She always does when we argue. The truth is, my mother isn't really the bad guy in all this, my dad is. But when she stops putting effort into our relationship to fight with my dad, it gets to me. Maybe I shouldn't have snapped at her the way I did, but it's too late to take that back now.