01 | tough love

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"ARE THOSE MY SHOES?" Amara's tone was more demanding than she planned on it being, but her expression did not flicker. Silvia glanced up from the heels she was pulling on with a dirty look. Amara refrained from rolling her eyes. "You could at least ask before borrowing my shit."

"Yeah, well," she huffed. "That's what they are. Shit."

Amara sighed, shifting the cell phone to her other ear. "Then don't fucking wear them if you're gonna complain."

"Debbie wears Fiona's stuff all the time."

Amara let her head fall against the doorframe. "Yeah, well you're not Debbie. Where you going anyway?"

"Debbie and I are going to Holly's."

"Jesus Christ."

"Piss off."

Amara stared at her as she stomped down the stairs, and at the exact same moment Gloria stepped out of her bedroom with raised brows. Amara didn't stick around for the lecture—which was practically a daily ritual at that point—and made her way back into her bedroom.

"What was that?" Lip's voice asked over the phone.

"One of the many amazing qualities of being a hormonal teenage girl."

"Yeah, sounded like you when we were thirteen."

"Eat a dick."

Lip snorted from the other end. "Hey, uh, I gotta go. I'll call you back?"

"You better," she replied, hoisting up her jeans. "Later."

She flipped her phone shut before throwing on a sweatshirt and heading down the stairs. She wasn't surprised to see Margot sitting at the table with a mug in her hands. She was however, surprised to see her latest boy-toy sitting besides her. This one had stuck around for the longest, a record of three days so far. She'd made a bet with Fiona on how long this one would last. "Good morning, Amelia."

"Amara," she corrected, pouring herself a cup of coffee and dropping bread into the toaster. "Do you two mind being quieter? I mean holy shit the entire block could've-"

"If you're jealous," Margot interrupted. "Maybe you should ditch the blonde for an upgrade."

"Lip is great," she shot. "If you're not gonna stop for me, at least stop for Silvia she's only-"

"She's old enough to know about sex," Margot defended. Amara groaned into her mug.

"Yeah, it's a free human anatomy lesson."

"She gets those at school, John. She doesn't need a live action one," Amara rolled her eyes, grabbing the toast before throwing her bag over her shoulder to leave.

She'd been waitressing at a restaurant uptown for the last month and a half—in all honesty, she had no idea how she managed to land the job. She loved Kev, but working at the Alibi and depending on that pay check was just not enough, and she'd put in a bunch of applications for higher paying companies. Somehow, that meant she'd have to take two buses every Sunday through Thursday in order to get to the building. It was a lot of work, but at least the uniform was cute.

"Amara," one of the other servers greeted with a nod when she stepped into the room. It was mostly empty, they hardly got any rush that early in the morning. She smiled in reply and began to make her way towards the back to change.

"Ahhh there she is! My favorite bitch."

She turned with a grin, eyeing her co-worker up. He was really the only person there she actually enjoyed hanging around. "Victor, my beloved. Did you get any numbers today?"

"Unfortunately not," he tsked, and huffed out a breath that made his red hair fly up out of his face before landing on his forehead again. "Maybe it's the freckles."

She raised a brow. "Or maybe it's the bullying your customers."

He rolled his eyes, glancing away as she began to change. "Not bullying," he corrected. "Tough love."

"I don't think that works on people who you're trying to get to tip you."

He made a noise. "Maybe you're right. Oooh! Hot Tom just walked in."

She pulled on her skirt, and buttoned it before shaking her head. "Anyone with the name Tom is not hot."

"Tom Holland is right there."

"Uh-huh."

"Tom Hiddleston."

"Who?"

"Tom Riddle!"

She bursted out laughing. "You're ridiculous."

As usual, Amara came home with aching feet and a growling stomach. She kicked off her heels as she stepped inside the house, before going to make her way into the kitchen where Gloria was sitting with a glass of wine. She welcomed her granddaughter with a tired smile.

"Hi," Amara greeted as she pulled out leftover lasagna from the fridge to stick it in the microwave. "Good day?"

"Your sister is a moody bitch."

She glanced over her shoulder. "I am very much aware. What'd she do?"

"The usual. An attitude. The slamming of doors."

Amara brought the cup in her hands to her mouth. "I don't think I was ever that bad."

"Of course you weren't, you were practically ten years older mentally at that point."

The microwave beeped and Amara shrugged as she pulled the hot plate out from it. "Maybe. Or maybe I had some fucking respect."

"Truth be told," Gloria leaned forward in her seat as Amara slid into a chair. "I think it's that Debbie girl. She's a bad influence."

"I think Debbie herself is being influenced," Amara responded with a mouthful of food. "Besides, it's not like we can just pull them apart. They've been best friends since they were literally toddlers. It's probably just a phase."

"A really strong one," she pressed on. "She won't listen to either of us."

Amara's gaze flicked over to her unconscious mother in the middle of the living room. "Not like we can ask her for help."

"Why does the fucking internet in this house never work?!" Silvia shouted from upstairs, cutting off their conversation. It was possible to hear her footsteps stomping towards them until she came into view. "Everything here sucks! The TV is complete ass, my socks are ripped, and there's never any internet!"

Neither of them got a chance to reply, because she stormed back up and slammed her bedroom door shut. Amara smirked and sunk in her seat. "Wanna know something?"

"What's that?"

"I cut the internet."

a/n

pls remember to at least vote theyre getting low again and it's making me lose motivation:/ also i don't mind spam comments like DO IT spam me i love reading through them

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