Teen Rebellion // S.R. ✓

CHAPTER THREE

(mentions an eating disorder)*

"How was your first week of senior year?" your mom asks you, handing you the bucket of fried chicken. She doesn't cook, and your father isn't home so you're stuck with fried chicken.

You take the bowl and dig through, finding the smallest piece. There's a small drumstick and you take it out, placing it on your plate. You look up at her, offering a warm smile paired with a nod. "It was eventful I guess."

She smiles, scoffing softly at your dull tone. She takes a bite out of the mashed potatoes and sets her spoon down, standing up and heading to the kitchen. You sit in your chair quietly, feeling yourself lift out of your body then rest itself back inside. You wonder what that is, but you pay no mind to it.

Your mom returns with a small cake, labeled, "Senior Baby." You look at her, giving her an upset look. She'll force you to eat, even if you don't want to. You also look at her confusedly, wondering why she's so nice and preppy and why she's made you and Penelope have a family dinner. "Thanks," you mumble, "but I'm fine."

She shakes her head, her face contorting into the face you know so well. Her eyes have gone black, upset with you and what you've told her. "What? Come on, eat some."

You push the plate away, turning your head from her. You look at Penelope, who's stuck in her chair, looking right back at you with a scared expression splattered across her face. She has no idea what to do either. You flick your eyes back to your mother and stare her straight in her eyes, pleading for her to move away.

She grabs the fork next to her and sticks it in the cake, taking a chunk out of the desert. She forcingly opens your mouth and shoves it in, fighting against your swinging arms and chomping of teeth. "Swallow," she says nicely.

"No," you gargle.

"Swallow, darling," she repeats.

You swallow the cake and look into her eyes, your jaw trembling. You feel instant regret, hatred for yourself. You try to reach into her, grab the kindness she once had and pull it out, smothering her in it.

"I love you sweetheart," she whispers, laying a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too," you return. "May I be excused?"

She removes herself from your bubble and takes the fork and plate of food away, holding it in hand. "Yes, you may."

You jolt out of your chair and head to your room, quietly in case she thinks you have an attitude. You close the door behind you and grab your phone, opening it and tapping on the calls app. You press on Spencer's contact and the dialing screen pops up, the sound of ringing sounding louder than you thought.

You bring the phone to your ear anxiously, whispering "come on," after every second he didn't reply. "Spencer please," you whisper, the overwhelming tears rolling in.

The ringing pauses and Spencer picks up, his short breaths before speaking relaxing you. "Hello?"

Your tears flood in, swallowing you down into its depths. You choke on your words, being caught in the anger that rushes through you like fire set to a line of gas. "She's killing me," you pant. "She's fucking excruciatingly annoying."

"What? Are you- I'm picking you up right now, stay there," he says, the sound of his bed sheets rustling and his shoes slapping against the floor.

"I'm okay Spencer I just need to talk to you." You wipe away your warm tears with the back of your hand, trying to straighten yourself up so Spencer won't worry. You've caused a scene and all of the "she's killing me" was unnecessary. You're fine, you're fine.