PROMISES » #MeToo ✔️

TWENTY // Piper

A/N: Sigh I don't really like this chapter, but here it is anyway.

HOW SHE GETS HER ALONE TIME

I don't tell mom that I know she called Neoma, but I still think she knows that Neoma told me. I've been trying not to be angry with her, but it's incredibly hard.

            Even though I try, I still end up saying something I shouldn't have.

            "Why don't you call Neoma and ask her?" I say – immediately, as if it was an instinct – in response to my mother's never ending question of if I'm okay.

            I see the hurt cross my mother's features as soon as I fire the question at her, and I realize I shouldn't have said that. That was low...too low.

            "I called her for your own good, you know," Mom mutters, keeping her eyes trained on the road. We're currently driving to the venue to retrieve my car, and we're a couple minutes away. "Something was obviously upsetting you, and you refused to talk about it—"

            "Because I wasn't ready to," I cry incredulously. "It had just happened."

            "I was worried," Her voice is quiet, breaking as she changes lanes. "I didn't know what to do—"

            "Did you not trust me to talk about it on my own?" I ask, again without thinking. I've got to work on this blurting-instinct. I can feel that it'll get me in trouble.

            "No, it's not that and you know it," Her reply is harsh, but I don't think she intends it to be that way, so I try not to take hurt from it.

            "Then what?" I ask a second later, quietly. I stare down at my fingernails, picking at them anxiously.

            She sighs, turning on her signal to turn into the venue's parking lot. Her silence is an answer in itself. I purse my lips, narrowing my eyes as I try to find my car in the parking lot. I vaguely see it, up front where I left it.

            We turn into the parking lot, still not saying a word to one another. She parks next to my car, pressing the button on her door to unlock the car. I'm silent as I grab my bag, pushing the car door open with my foot.

            "I'll see you at home," Mom says, and I nod.

            I step out of the car, then feeling the heaviness on my shoulders. I chew on the inside of my lip, my hand still resting on top of the passenger side door.

            "Can I go to Barnes n' Noble?" I ask hesitantly, and then add, "To do homework," when I see the skeptic look in her eyes.

            She agrees reluctantly, and only after I've promised to text her when I get there, and when I'll be leaving to come home. She asks what we should do for dinner, but I tell her truthfully that I'm not really hungry – and I'm not lying. I haven't really been hungry all day. She says she'll order a pizza and I can have some when I get home if I want. I tell her it sounds like a good idea.

            I unlock my car, tossing my bag in the backseat before shutting the door and getting in the driver's seat. Mom leaves when she sees me safely inside my car, waving at me through her window as she goes. I wave back, a sad smile on my lips.

We haven't resolved the issue by any means, but at least I know she isn't holding a grudge against me for accusing her of not trusting me. I'll try to do the same.

I plug my phone into the aux cord, going to my Spotify library and selecting 'Hells Bells' by AC/DC. My brain is still loving Classic Rock today, I guess.