Dear Ex-Girlfriend (Lesbian, Girlxgirl, Gay)

Chapter 7. Gravity

Chapter7. Gravity

It felt odd to wake up early. It felt odd to feel the coldness on my skin, to have the wind from the open window blow on my hair. The oddest thing was I used to like this feeling. I used to feel like a rebel being the only one up, like I was waving a middle finger at the monotonous life of Bear Creek.

Look at me, assholes. Look at me defy the gravity in which you've tied yourselves into. Look at me break from the cycle.

At least that's how it used to be. Today the déjà vu was making my stomach hurt.

It took me a while to go to the bathroom. I was sluggish, sleepy. I've grown unaccustomed to the rhythm that it almost felt like I was getting on my bike after I haven't ridden for years.

In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I haven't done that in a while too. I've been avoiding my image for years for some reason, and God, things have changed.

My hair had grown below my waist. What used to be a wave of red locks had become an untamable monster. It wasn't cute anymore. It was a disaster.

I pushed myself closer to the mirror and checked my face. Maybe I needed a gallon of moisturizer. Maybe I needed to trade my body altogether.

Going back to my room, I went to the bedside table and opened the drawer. The scissors I grabbed was a few years old, but it would still do the trick. I returned to the bathroom and took a lock of my hair. Time for a cut.

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted on my nose when I went down the stairs. Dad must have heard me. He peeked to see what was going on, the spatula still on his hand. "You're up early," he said.

I shrugged and went to the chair. It scraped on the carpet as I pulled it back to sit.

Dad hadn't removed his gaze from me. The corner of his mouth was curved into a pleased smile, a wrinkle on his forehead showing. Had he always looked so dad-like?

"What are you staring at?" I asked. He was getting kind of weird.

He shook his head and got back to the stove. The sizzling of the bacon had turned to popping. If he didn't take them out soon, they'd be burnt to a crisp. "You cut your hair," he observed.

"Yeah, so?"

He sighed as he scooped the bacon and placed them on a plate beside the stove. "I thought you've skipped the teenage angst when you turned seventeen. Seems like it's only beginning."

"Oh please, dad. I'm way past that nonsense. This is me in all my glory. It's not angst, it's called sarcastic personality."

"I noticed." He took the plate and turned around. I was surprised to see that the smile hadn't left his face when he went to the table.

"What are you smiling for?" I said.

His smile grew wider. "Welcome back," he said.

The two of us ate in total silence. I didn't know how to talk to him. What to talk to him about. We haven't shared a meal in who knew how long. We haven't sat down like this because I've always dashed out the door the first thing after waking up. I've been returning late at night from the Ruins too. I've been a bad daughter.

After eating, dad stood up and went to the living room. He returned with a paper bag on his hand. "This is yours," he said as he gave it to me. "Your new number is written on a paper. Everyone else's contact detail is already saved on the list."

I gave him a quizzical stare before opening the paper bag. A box was inside.

"It's a Blackberry," he said nervously. "The seller told me it's popular with teenagers your age. I hope you like it."