you belong with me - Olivia Rodrigo

who the fuck is Rodrigo?

I wake up and open my curtains to let the sunlight in. Olivia's curtains are closed this time. Maybe she's already left for school, or maybe she was creeped out from me watching her dance yesterday. Whoops.

After getting dressed, I walk downstairs and open the fridge door, only to find it completely empty.

"Sorry, baby, I still haven't done the groceries. Do you have money for lunch?" My mom says, leaning on the kitchen counter and scrolling through her phone.

I shake my head no.

She looks through her wallet in her purse and pauses for a moment. "Shoot, I don't have cash. Do you think you could borrow some from your friends today?"

"What friends?"

"Olivia?" I raise my eyebrows and shoot her a look that says 'really?'.

I can already imagine it. She'd probably put on that bored expression she always has when she looks at me and ignore me at school.

Mom laughs, understanding the tension between us, "Okay, what about your old friends? Aren't you going to see them today? I'm sure they miss you. Jenna, right? And the other one, what's her name... Isabella?"

"Yeah, Jenna and Isa," I bite my lip.

My best friends from three years ago before mom and I moved away. I missed them so much. They don't even know I'm coming back today. I wonder how much they've changed. Would they even want to see me?

I examine the bracelet Jenna made for me in the palm of my hand, contemplating whether wearing it would make me look lame. Eventually, I decide to tuck it into the front pocket of my backpack instead.

"What's your plan today? besides groceries?" I ask mom, putting my shoes on and backpack over my shoulder.

"I'm gonna go around and apply for jobs. Can't live off your grandpa's inheritance forever" she smiles.

It's a blessing that my mom doesn't have to struggle to pay the rent anymore. But I'm just worried that moving back to this place would bring back memories of her and dad. After all, the reason we moved away from here was because my mom couldn't handle the heartbreak.

This time, I take a closer look at my mom, studying her. She's noticeably transformed since she quit drinking. Her complexion has regained its healthy colour, and her skin appears more vibrant and youthful. Her overall demeanour radiates happiness, and it's a relief to witness the positive change.

"You look good, Mom," I say softly.

She smiles in response, but her eyes hold an expression of guilt. "Thank you, honey. I've never gotten around to saying it, but I'm really sorry for not being the best mom these past few years."

She pauses, contemplating her words. "You shouldn't have had to deal with everything you have at such a young age. You know, with your dad, and me drinking."

Her words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, a thick silence envelops us. I briefly remember those days in Glendale, coming home to my mom lying drunk on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles.

"It's okay, Mom," I reply, trying to ease the weight off her shoulders. "Fuck Dad. What matters is that you're here now, and you're doing better. That means a lot to me."

She nods, a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. She shakes her head and smiles bitterly, "I should've listened to your Grandpa."

I look at her with pity on my face. It sounds like grandpa had really good judgment with men. I wonder how life would've turned out if my mom chose to leave my dad and raise me with Grandpa instead.