All The Small Things

112

[Luca POV]
"You got it. It'll be fine," Jacob encouraged me, unlocking the car doors.
"I love you," I mumbled, leaning over and kissing his lips. My momma knows I'm here cause we texted her when we left and said we'd be about 45 minutes. I opened my door and slid out of the car, hurrying over to her front door. It started raining on the way over, and now it's pouring. I knocked a little loud and waited for her to open the door, standing up straighter when I heard it unlock.
"Get your ass in here," She commanded, 10000 times more angry than on the phone. I really didn't expect her to be this mad, so when she was, I couldn't help it when my heart rate rapidly increased. But I listened and stepped inside, letting her practically slam the door shut after.

"I'm just an awful mom, huh? I ain't do shit for you?" She started out, catching me off guard.
"No! Momma, I never said that!" I tried to de-escalate. Her being mad never works out for anyone other than her.
"This sure as hell does," She spat, picking up and shoving a little notebook into my arms. It was my journal from my freshman year, but I never bad mouthed her in it. Not that I remember.
"I read all of it. Who do you think you are to criticize me as a parent? You never contributed a GOD DAMN thing in this house! But you get to say I'm a bad mom?" She exclaimed, making me shake my head quickly. I didn't know what to say in my defense. I knew nothing I said would affect her view of this, but even if it would've, I was at a loss for words.

"Ungrateful little bitch!" She yelled as she pushed me against the wall.
"Stop! Stop, please! Momma, quit it," I cried as she pushed me harder. Fuck I can't think straight. I feel like I'm gonna be sick. She gritted her teeth and punched me across the face, and I instantly felt warm blood rushing down into my mouth.
"Out of my fucking house. Out!" She demanded, swinging the door open violently and pushing my back through the door. I minorly tripped on the way out, but that wasn't my top concern. Jacob opened my side door from the inside as I hurried to the car, holding my arm up to my nose in an attempt to subside the bleeding. I got in, grateful for the shield from the rain, and shut my side door.
"Shit, what the hell happened?!" Jacob asked, practically pulling me into his lap as he examined my face. I held myself up on the middle console as he tried to wipe the blood with tissues that had been in the backseat. He must've grabbed them when he saw blood gushing down from my nose as I left her house. I handed him the journal that was shoved upon me, trying to think of what to say.
"She said I was calling her a bad mom in that," I mumbled, attempting to rub away any partially dried blood since I had finished cleaning off the still wet places. I decided to sit back down in my seat at this point.

"Baby, that's not anything like what's in this." He commented after skimming through it, fully reading some parts.
"Maybe I wrote it so it sounded like that..." I mumbled, trying to justify what she did.
"That doesn't give her any reason to do that," He reassured me, kissing my temple.
"I-I jus wanna go home," I whispered, sniffling as I buckled myself in.

He didn't suggest anything else. He just drove back to the apartments.
"Dady... hold you," I whined as he walked in the front door. I slipped on the car ride back, mostly because Jacob leaned over and kissed my cheek at every red light just to tell me he loved me.
"Aw, come here, baby. My little boy just needs his Dady, huh?" He said, pulling me into his arms and making me babble a little. He sat down on the couch, his back against the armrest, and let out a releived.
"There's still blood.." Dady mumbled, attempting to rub it off with the hem of his shirt. I crinkled my nose but let him, but he must've not been successful since he stopped after a little bit of trying. I rested my head on his chest and tried to relax.
"Dady, my back hurts," I whined, trying to get comfy.
"Oh, baby. I'm sorry," He said, rubbing the lower part of my back. Which, actually, was where it ached.

After a few moments of silence, I started thinking about what had happened. Did I really hurt her feelings...? Cause if I did, I didn't mean to. I swear, I wouldn't on purpose.
"Papa... did I hurt her feelings?" I softly asked.
"What you wrote wasn't what she interpreted it to be, and she assumed what you meant when you wrote it. That's what hurt her feelings, Bubba. You didn't write 17 pages on how she's a horrible mom. You get what I mean?" He explained, making me nod a little. I still felt really sad about it, though.

[Jacob POV]
In all reality, in the whole journal, there weren't many sentences that even referenced his mom. And the ones that did, they weren't mean. The only o es O saw were,

'I don't like when she doesn't tell me where she's leaving to. She makes me feel scared a lot when she does that cause she never says when she'll be back.'

'Momma doesn't like when I hang out with my friends, and I can't figure out why. She won't let me go see them on the weekends, even when they say they'd pick me up. Maybe she doesn't think they're good people, but I swear they are.'

'Momma didn't notice me last night. I think she was drinking, so she wasn't really paying attention to anything. Let alone me just wanting her to talk to me. I had to make myself dinner, but I didn't see anything in the cabinets I could make. (It's just peanut butter, Jello mix, honey, and hamburger helper. But we don't have milk to make it.) I'm hungry, but she isn't, so I'm not gonna bring it up.'

I think she just feels guilty about what she did, and instead of admitting it, she's blaming Luca and turning it into anger.
"I don't wanna be mean to her..." He whispered, sniffling and cuddling me close.
"I know... You aren't mean, baby. You're the sweetest little boy I've known," I reassured him, pecking his cheek. I let him silently hang onto me while I scrolled on my phone.
"Bite..?" He quietly asked eventually.
"Bubba, I don't wanna go look for your teether," I sighed. He didn't get up to go find it. Just bit me instead. He almost only bit on my neck and collarbone, no doubt making it look like I have hickeys. Jesus fuck, he bites hard. I don't mind what it feels like, but when he leaves as many little bruises as he normally does, it looks like we were having sex. And I have work tomorrow.

"Bite somewhere else, I have to work tomorrow," I redirected him.
"No!" He whined, turning himself away from me. I know he isn't just being stubborn. I know he's still upset from what happened and telling him I that I guess made him feel worse. I rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head. He'll talk to me when he's in a better mood, so I'm not gonna force him to talk to me right now.