wanted | mystal

sleepover

Four

Rowan

"Can we talk?"

"No,"

"Rowan," mom warned, making me huff.

"You asked," I sassed.

"I don't want to talk about your friends, I want to talk about your attitude lately," she said, catching me off guard.

"Why?" I questioned, spinning around in my chair as she sat down on my bed across from me.

"Because you've been out of character, and we need to get you back on track,"

"I think I've been normal," I lied, making her give me a look.

"I've been trying to be understanding, and I know you have been through a lot, but you're taking advantage of that," she explained as I brought my knees to my chest.

"You don't understand," I mumbled.

"No, I don't," she agreed.

"Everyone's against me,"

"I'm not,"

"Dad is," I told her as tears filled my eyes, "and my teachers, and my friends, I'm exhausted. I can't catch a break," I wiped under my eyes.

"You don't have to see dad anymore,"

"He still has control over me,"

"I'm trying to get that resolved,"

"My teachers are so horrible, and overwhelm me. And my friends never understand, they always leave me out," I wiped under my eyes.

"How would you feel about changing schools?" mom suggested.

"Can I?" I looked up at her.

"I'll do my best to make that happen," she promised and I nodded. "You can always talk to me about these things, I'm here to listen, and soon we will meet with Ashton," she added.

"I just want to be happy again,"

"You will be, we will get you there. But that might have to start with not being so hard on yourself and others around you,"

"I'm sorry,"

"It's ok, I forgive you," she smiled, holding her arms out. Instantly I moved to her lap, hugging her tightly. "How about a sleepover tonight?"

"Mhm,"

"Movie?"

"If I can pick,"

"Deal," she agreed. We laid on my bed with Southy in between us, letting The Princess Bride play, which we had seen many times. It was quiet, but I enjoyed her company, I always did. A lot of teenagers were embarrassed of their parents. I wasn't embarrassed by mom, only dad.

My dad had always been horrible. He was always angry, yelling and drinking a lot. He took a lot of his anger out on me and mom, until mom divorced him when I was seven. He changed after though. Stopped drinking, wasn't as angry, and then I got to see him. He got a job as a janitor, and mom had a job as a doctor. I think he always envied her. When I was twelve the drinking started again, but I didn't tell mom. It wasn't a big deal, I thought at least. Then he got abusive, and always threatened me to not tell mom. So I kept it a secret until last year when I was in the hospital for stitches because he went too far.

Somehow he still has custody, it wasn't much. I had to see him once every three months with mom there, and it was horrible. Mom was trying to get that taken away, but it wasn't that easy. I still had nightmares about him and felt every hit. There were scars that won't go away no matter how hard I tried. A lot of things about me reminded me of him. My blonde hair reminded me of him, the mole over my lip on the right side, my curls that I always straightened. I hated it.

"Can I dye my hair?" I asked mom.

"What color?"

"Caramel brown,"

"If you would like," she agreed.

"I want to,"

"I'll set up an appointment," she offered.

"Thank you,"

"Can I ask you something?" she paused the movie, the two of us turning on our sides to look at each other.

"Yeah, what?" I asked as I pet Southy, who was fast asleep.

"How would you feel about me dating again?"