62 // on purpose

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CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
on purpose
•••

{TW} • depression• Disordered eating? Body image? • Self-harm? • Lots of words!!!

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{TW}
• depression
• Disordered eating? Body image?
• Self-harm?
• Lots of words!!!

ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ

"Where were you today?" my dad asked. It was weird having him home with me again. He kinda came and went, just like Mom. Either way, I saw him more often than usual, and I didn't mind it at all. He was easier to talk to than mom, even though we barely spoke either.

"Oakley and I went out to get ice cream," I mumbled, staring at my phone. There wasn't much interesting happening online, but what bothered me were people saying stuff about Oakley because he'd lost some weight.

"Good. How is he doing?"

"Fine." Another article popped up about how it might even be my fault. People even speculating that I got him to do heroin. Maybe I shouldn't be looking at this. I definitely shouldn't be doing this. I couldn't let rumors tear me apart like that.

"Hey, how was dinner with his family yesterday? Your mom told me—"

I got distracted as a message popped up on my phone. It was my mom asking if we could talk about some things tonight.

You:
Yeah ok

"Nolan."

"Yeah. Sorry. Dinner was good."

"No, something smells like it's burning."

Fuck, he was right. I got up from the couch and ran to the kitchen. I couldn't really see through the glass of the oven because it was all smoke in there—some of it escaping through the oven door. If I opened it now, the alarm would definitely be triggered. Hell, I was surprised it wasn't triggered already.

"You need help?"

"No, it's fine. I'm fine." I turned off the oven and opened all the windows. I also put the ventilation on the highest setting, but I didn't open the oven door. They were ruined already and I didn't feel like fixing the alarm too.

"I- I don't know what happened. That's never happened before. Well, not with it being my fault, I guess."

"I didn't know you baked."

"You don't know a lot of stuff," I mumbled, trying to clean up the mess I left behind earlier. It was quiet for a while before my dad's phone rang.

I knew he was just trying to be a good dad and whatnot, but I felt like I was being watched. I hated it because my entire job already revolved around being watched. I didn't need my home life to be the same. In fact, I needed it to be the opposite. 

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