Not good for you

03;

I threw my bag on my bed and closed the door of my wardrobe. It was easy and didn't waste too much space.

I always knew whenever I'd go on a vacation that I shouldn't pack too much of clothes, because I always end up spending all my money on new things that wouldn't be used for a long time.

Then I always had the nerve to act all shocked that I was out of money.

That might have been the reason that I'd applied for a night shift during senior year that almost made me fall on my finals.

But my mother's teenage ways of spending money were another reason too. She'd always make room for going to the barber every twice week, getting her nails done, and painting her eyelashes.

And the most ironic thing about her ways of acting like a teen was that she knew that her salary wasn't the best, yet she never knew how to handle it. She needed a day or two to spend all her money on unnecessary clothes or house equipment that she never used.

I hated that I started to become like her. I wanted to be the opposite of her, be someone responsible and smart, but sometimes when I'd looked into the mirror I wasn't even able to see myself only glimpses of her that burnt inside of me.

That was one of the main reasons that I chose not to spend my summer at home with her. I needed her to realize that I wouldn't always be here to pay the bills instead of splitting them in two. And I also needed time away, because this senior year was plain down terrible.

But at least I've got my friends who were sometimes ruthless and raw, but that was what made them. They never hid their opinion on things which made me grateful that instead of just staying quiet they never were afraid to give voice to their thoughts.

That was how they made a lot of enemies, but wasn't that the goal of high school? To make friends and enemies along the way while you are exploring yourself while heading toward adult life?

My phone vibrated on my bedside table, so I turned back to grab it when I heard my mother's footsteps.

"You packed everything?" she asked and I stopped midway.

"Yes, I'm only waiting for Leigh to pick me up," I said and she nodded.

When a clouded expression washed over her features, I furrowed my eyebrows. Usually, her sudden change was a way of hers to try to talk some sense into my head.

Which was hilarious, considering that sometimes she was more childish than I ever could be.

"You know that you shouldn't show off, right?" she asked.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, already tired of her lecture.

She crossed her arms and leaned against my doorframe.

"I meant financially," she said and I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious, Heddy. I understand that sometimes it feels great to pay for your friends, but they would get used to it and would always expect it from now on. Just don't spend your money on anyone, not that you'll be friends forever."

I would have agreed if it wasn't her parenting way of telling me that I shouldn't spend all my money, because she didn't even want to hear about me buying a present for Leigh's birthday either.

"The last thing you need is having every barfly clinging all over you once you touch your wallet." she rolled her eyes and I could feel my anger growing inside of me.

"Excuse me?" I asked, giving her a dangerous gaze.

She took my infuriated sight in and just shrugged.

"Don't act like you are special," she said with her eyes never leaving me. "Don't think that they are something special. High school relationships never last. Honestly, I don't even know why would you go. Don't you think that I need you here?"

Her empty but vicious words echoed in my ears.

Notice how she said she needed me, not that she wanted me here because I was her daughter. She just needed someone to rely on once she'd thrown all her money out the window.

There were times when I could strangle her with my bare hands and she'd still find a way to blame it all on me.

Before I could say something that I'd regret, I just grabbed my bag and hurried out of my room, careful not to touch her shoulder once slipped out the doorway.

"I don't think you should go." she followed me down the stairs, moving her hips as she took the stairs.

"Did ever the thought cross your mind that maybe I want to go?" I asked as I threw my bag down and grabbed my shoes.

She watched me tying my shoes with a scoff on her face, no sign of hesitation on her face.

"Well, if for some miracle you feel that way..."

"I do." I interrupted her. "No miracles involved."

"I'm pretty sure because you feel all responsible for them in your way." she tilted her head to the side, her hair falling. "You were always too vulnerable."

I stopped in my movement as her words cut through me. They were raw, hurtful, and true at the same time.

But I would have never thought that she'd go there.

And for what? Because I'd be spending my summer with my friends?

Talk about being a responsible parent.

"Vulnerability is not weakness," I glared at her but she wasn't even listening to me.

"You're right." her eyes met mine. "It's the biggest flaw a person could have and you are full of it."

I felt like someone just kicked me in the stomach. She was so flat and honest that it hurt that she never even tried to understand my place.

All she did was give me all of her figure speeches while completely missing out on the fact that she was just as flawed as I was.

God forbid anyone – especially me – who would remind her of that fact.

Trying to swallow my sadness which has been an old habit of mine, I blinked my tears away just when there was a knock on the wooden door behind us.

"Leigh is sure fast," she commented as she walked over to the door while confusion pulled me under the surface again.

Because Leigh has almost never knocked.

I've been trying to teach her some manners but she'd been more fierce than I could ever imagine. Once she's made a note about this in her head, she just always seemed to forget about it once she'd walked over to our entrance.

Honestly, I'd just given up after that. You couldn't force anyone to change, maybe you could inspire them or guide them in the right direction but you'd never be in a position where you could or had the right to change someone.

My mother opened the door and my heart missed a beat by our uninvited guest.

Seeley Drewitt was standing on our porch, wearing flipped black baseball cap, cargo shorts, and a white undershirt that left her muscles exposed. Playing basketball for years and visiting the gym lately really did a number on him.

My eyes fell to a tattoo right on his heart hiding under his shirt. I couldn't see all of it but I was sure it was a representation of a chain.

I didn't even know he had a tattoo.

"Hi, Miss Violet." Seeley greeted my mother with a smile which my mother barely returned.