08 | Have a nice day :)

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I sink back in my chair, letting out a puff of air. Not for the first time, the urge to disappear takes a hold of me, leaving me on edge. I keep my eyes sealed shut to keep myself from rolling them or exploding right here, in the middle of our dining room.

"I can't believe you did something like that, Ada." My Dad states, piercing me with his eyes. "You lied to us."

"I didn't lie." I protest calmly. "I never said I was going to come to this particular meeting."

"Ada, please, don't be cheeky." Dad says on an exhale, running his hands down his face.

"I don't know if you realize, but attending the meetings regularly is the whole point." Everett cuts in.

"I don't know if you realize that this is none of your business." I fire back.

A tense silence envelops us. The only sound is the scraping of the cutlery against the plates as everyone busies themselves with their meals. It happens every time I snap. And I'd like to say I'm sorry, but I can't. Every time I snap at Everett, I feel lighter. I know it's twisted. The girl I used to be before coming here would be horrified at the thought of talking to him like this. The one I am now doesn't remember what my conscience sounds like.

"Don't do this again." Dad says, signalling that the discussion is over.

I nod, once. I'm not planning on it. It was a one-time event. I may not be a fan of my little rande-vous with Ms. Brownstone, but avoiding them is not my purpose in life. I have better things to do than listen to my parents' - and Everett's - complaints later.

I guess someone might call my parents inconsequential. I bet a great majority of my peers would be envious of them. I ditch my therapy session. I leave my brother in the lurch and make him wait for me for over half an hour in the school parking lot, then snap at him for telling me off. And yet all the reprimand I get is: "Don't do this again."

But the truth is, they are just tired of fighting me. I think they've finally come to the terms with the fact that there's no use battling with me. They don't know the girl sitting in front of them. The sooner they realize it, the better. She died the exact day we came here and was replaced by this sorry excuse of herself. And now here I was - bitter, rebellious, and holding a grudge against my own family. And there's no winning with me. Understanding that took them some time, but finally, they relented. That's why my therapy with Ms. Brownstone started. She's the one supposed to tame me, I guess.

I wished her good luck every single day of the past year.

"I got a job." Mum announces out of the blue, startling us.

We stare at her, unblinking. She surprised me. I was prepared to finish the meal in silence, go to my room wordlessly and not to speak to any of them for the rest of the night. Turns out, I was wrong.

That's Mum. She'll never let the bad vibes take over. Every time she senses the air around her tense, she tries to enlighten the mood.

Sometimes I wonder how it feels like to be like her.

"Wow." Everett's the first one to untangle his tongue. "That's... great."

"Are you going to be a babysitter as you planned?" Dad asks.

"No." Mum shakes her head, cutting her asparagus in half. "But it's even better. I'm back to teaching."

I will never admit it, but something in my chest shifts at these words. I know how much Mum loves teaching. I'm relieved she's no longer going to miss it.

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