𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

[𝟑𝟐] 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮

I'm woken up by the sound of a phone ringing, which isn't exactly the most pleasant thing when I'd just barely fallen asleep maybe an hour ago.

I had a late shift, and on top of that, I'd barely slept the day before, since I was studying for hours. Of course, I don't care as much as Sam does but that's because doing all of this is going to get me where I want to go.

I don't even know where I want to go in life.

"Sam, turn off your phone." I shove him, groaning as I shift around in my bed.

He shoves me, pulling my blanket towards himself, leaving me for the frigid air. "My phone's in the fgsjhdkja."

He mumbles that last part, leaving me confused. But nonetheless, I reach over him in search of my phone. He pulls me down to him, earning an oomph from me.

"Samuel, I swear to god."

"Mhm." He wraps his arms around me tightly, holding me to him. The ringing finally comes to a stop. "Fank gojhdfs."

The peace is short-lived though because not even a minute later, my phone starts ringing again. Sam lets out the loudest groan known to man as he grabs my phone, answering and pressing it to his ear without so much as checking who the sleep disturber is.

"Hello?" He says, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep. I was wrong. Really really wrong. He can get hotter.

Dear god.

Sam looks down at me and I poke his double chin.

"Stop it." He smacks my hand away before saying, "Yeah, she's right here."

Who is it?

He presses the mute button before putting the caller on speaker so I too can hear what they're saying.

"Hey, Grace. You there, bud?" It's my dad. Sam unmutes and gives me a look, like telling me to speak to my father.

"Uh, yeah..." I let my eyes meet Sam's as I roll off of him and sit up, taking my phone from his hand. "What's up?"

"Hi, baby. Er... I have a question."

"At four in the morning?" I ask. I'm half-joking but, seriously, man? If there's one thing everyone knows about me is that I hate when my sleep gets interrupted. I didn't sleep my ass off for half of high school the way I'd planned because Bertha took over. So now, I'm going to sleep my ass off. Mainly because now I have a little more freedom.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I had a question about your mom, Grace. Your mom mom."

❛❜

"What'd he mean your mom mom?" He asks calmly, folding a pair of his pants and passing them to me to put into our luggage.

"I'm adopted." I shrug like it's not a big deal. When in actuality it's a huge deal. I mean, I'm adopted. My mom isn't my mom and my dad isn't my dad. Well, they are, but not biologically.

That's crazy. It's crazy, right? Up until two weeks ago, I'd thought I was blood-related to Spencer and Ray. Oh my god, my brother isn't my brother.

Fuck Ray, hate that bitch. I'm glad I'm not related to her. But my favorite sibling isn't even my sibling.

"What? Since when?"

I freeze, angling my head to look at him. "Since I was born?"

"Oh." He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "Am I stupid?"

"Clearly." I snort. This little system of him folding clothes and handing them to me goes on for almost an hour before his phone alarm goes off. He turns it off, standing up before offering me his hand. "What?"

"It's nine." He tells me.

I furrow my eyebrows, nodding. "Yeah, I know."

"It's breakfast time."

On instinct, my head begins constructing various excuses for me. But I know better. So rather than using one of the numerous excuses I have, waiting to be used, I let the corner of my lips turn up in a small smile and say, "Go wake up Annie to start making breakfast."

He frowns. "I can cook for you too."

I giggle, rising from my spot on the floor. I get on my tiptoes, leaning up to give him a little kiss on the lips. "Then go and be hubby material then."

He smiles, dipping his head down and pressing a longer kiss to my mouth. "Okay, stop, my lips are chapped."

He pulls away, turning for the door. "Gracie?"

"Yeah?" I say, folding my legs under each other to resume the folding and packing on my own.

"Put on some chapstick, mkay?"

❛❜

I wound up packing for about an hour more after Sam left the room. He[ and Annie are posted up in the kitchen cooking breakfast and for once Easton had gone home. Ray however is nowhere to be seen and I'm praying she's left to look for a job.

Perhaps that makes me sound like a dick but I'm serious. I love her although I loathe the actual fuck out of her, ya' know? She can't live with me for the rest of her life. She can't rely on me for money and food and basic necessities anymore. She's 19, so shouldn't she be doing those sorts of things on her own by now?

I understand that things aren't entirely easy for her. I mean, the girl's anxiety is just as bad as mine is. But... I don't know. I just feel like she needs more independence. I feel like I'm her mother.

Back to what I was saying, I'm still stuck packing as the two morons stay cooking me breakfast. I've surprisingly made a ton of progress with packing. Not that it required much effort.

I only intend on staying for a week, perhaps two. I can't stay too long thanks to classes but I also can't stay for too short of a period because I want to spend time with dad. And possibly my biological mom, if everything goes smoothly.

Please don't screw this up for me, Life.

I'm excited. But I'm honestly terrified as well. For obvious reasons like: what if she doesn't like me. Or, what if I didn't turn out the way she wished me to.

A knock comes from the other side of my door, prying me from my thoughts. Before I can even invite them in, the door creaks as Ray sticks her head through the door.

"Can I come in?" She asks. Her tone is soft as she says it and she has this look in her eyes that tells me that she's not certain if I'm alright to talk to yet. I mean, I don't blame her. Not only was our argument rather ugly but I also hold grudges like a child holds onto his mother's leg to shield him from the scary world.

I just nod, not sure if opening my mouth will lead to another dispute.

She pushes the door open a little, coming into the room and shutting the door behind her. I raise an eyebrow at her choice of clothing. She's wearing this long sleeve bodysuit that has some pattern on it as well as a pair of white, high waisted pants and heels that matched her top. {a/n : pic in media btw}

An uncomfortable silence fills the room. And I'm about to comment on her outfit when she says, "So, dad mentioned that you're going to go see bio mom. Well, your bio mom. Not that that's a bad thing! I-"

I laugh, shaking my head. "It's fine. And yeah, I'm going to go see her."

Silence takes over again but this time it's not as uncomfortable. It just feels like I'm in the same room as the girl who told me I'm adopted.

No! Actually?!

This time, I speak up. "Uh, you look... nice. That top looks really nice on you."

She looks down at her shirt, smiling. "It's mom's. I found it in the back of my closet."

"Oh..." Her saying that just made me realize that the only thing I had left of mommy was her wedding ring. The last time I saw her, she hugged me really tight and apologized to me. I never really knew if she meant it because no matter how genuine she seemed, she always had a way to turn things around.

But, despite me knowing that, I still hugged her back. Because she's still my mom. Maybe she didn't shit me out but she still raised me. And taught me who I was.

Yeah, she attempted changing who I was, convincing me that I wasn't going to get anywhere in life when my thighs touched and my arms appeared a tad chubby. But maybe there's more to it.

I didn't even realize that there could've been more to it until I started college. I'm a psych major, so when we began talking about how things can impact the way a person thinks and how they act, I started realizing that maybe mom was doing that for a reason.

Which made me feel like a dick; like I was the one doing something wrong. I guess I just have this weird... habit of turning things around on myself. It kind of feels like I never let myself feel okay.

"Have you talked to mom since..." She trails off, not sure if it was okay to bring up the whole sucky-mom thing.

"Erm... no? I mean, she's called me and stuff but I blocked her after a while. I have voicemails from her but I've never opened them." I shrug, suddenly remembering something. "You know she uh... I turned on my old phone the other day and right when I turned it on, it started ringing. It was mom. And... I really wanted to answer it and tell her how shitty she always made me feel. I wanted her to feel bad for what she put me through, you know?"

Ray nods, coming to sit next to me on the floor. "Yeah, I get that."

"But I just powered it off. I didn't want to deal with that. I still don't want to deal with that. I feel like I just need to put it behind me. It's been years and I'm just tired of putting so much energy into a situation I claim doesn't affect me anymore."

"Yeah..." She turns her head to look at me. "It's okay if it affects you, Gracie. It's okay if it made you feel less. You're a human and the way you feel about everything that's happened to you is just proof of that, yeah? I think you beat yourself up too much over being human."

I nudge her with my shoulder. "Well, I learned it from you so..."

She smacks my shoulder. "Hey! I do not do that."

I shake my head, smiling at her, "You soooo do."

"I got a job today. And then I went to look at a few apartments."

I furrow my eyebrows, "Ray, I didn't mean that I wanted you to move out when we-"

"Yes you did," she interjects, "and that's okay. Because you were right, Grace. I can't live with you forever and if I keep on depending on you I'm never going to learn how to depend on me."

She sighs, "People go away. Alllll the time, and I was thinking about it and it hit me, that if you... suddenly evaporate into thin air. Who am I going to rely on then? Dad's old and Mom's got her shit, right? So, in the end, I'm all I have. And in order to be okay with only having myself in the long run, I need to be on my own and experience things for myself, right?"

"Right." I nod, leaning my head on her shoulder. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you more, Gracie." She kisses the top of my head, wrapping her arm around me. After a few more moments, she stands up, kissing my head one last time. "I have to pack."

"Yeah." I nod.

She opens the door, walking past the threshold and shutting it. I stand up from my spot to pack some toiletries when she opens the door again, peeking her head in.

"And, Grace?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry for telling you."

Before I can say anything, she shuts the door again. And just a few seconds later I hear a distant sound of a door shutting, telling me that she made it to her room.

I'm sorry you told me, too.