Attempted love

13

~mia pov~

Thursday and we're back at school. Sitting at our lunch table. I'm eating whatever Pietro doesn't eat. Or whatever he makes me eat.

I get up to use the bathroom. I get there and when I come back out of the stall, I'm thrown to the ground.

Liz kicks me in the side a few times, then leans down close to me.

"Hey, miserable bitch. How you been?"

I don't answer and she punches me in the side. Somewhere it isn't visible.

"You know you're useless, right? Pietro doesn't deserve you. No one does. You're meaningless little life is in the way. You should do something about it."

She gets up and walks out. I stand up, but struggle at the pain. I go to the mirror and lift my shirt to see a large bruise beginning to form. I wince and let the shirt drop.

I keep my tears in with a few deep breathes. Everything is fine. They don't need to know.

I get back to my table and act as if nothing happened. They don't seem to realize how badly in pain I am in. I keep eating while trying my best, but failing at keeping the memory away.

Wanda isn't looking through my head, now, so that's good.

-

We get home and sit on the couch together. I keep the act up while the others talk.

-

"Mia. Dinner. What do you want?" Dad asks.

"I don't know."

"Think."

"Maybe we could go out to eat? A coney island?"

"Yes, please?" Sam agrees.

"Okay." Dad chuckles. "Who's paying?"

"You." We all say.

"Pros and cons of being a billionaire."

I smile at him and we all get ready to go. We have to take two cars and I go with my dad, Pietro, Wanda, and Peter.

We get to the non-packed restaurant and I manage to get to sit between Dad and Pietro. I order french toast and sprit. Weird combination, but I like both, so I'm going with it.

"You're strange." Sam says.

"I like 'em." I shrug.

"Alright."

Pietro chuckles next to me and I take his hand under the table. He smiles at me and we start eating.

I laugh with them. I smile with them. I try my best to enjoy my time with them for the rest of the night. The rest of my life.