Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

Ella's POV:

I left Declan's a little over an hour ago. My mom wanted to see me and I didn't want her to know I was hanging out with a boy. So I left.

When I left Declan's I had to admit I was a bit proud of myself for not being socially awkward. Being around people I don't really know, usually gives me super bad anxiety. My hands will sometimes tremble slightly when I'm asked a question, and my thoughts are normally jumbled to the point where I can't think clearly.

But with Declan, I don't have those feelings. Yes, he makes me nervous, but a different kind of nervous. He doesn't make me feel like I have to hide, when I'm with him it's like he encourages me to be myself. He doesn't make me feel judged.

Now I'm currently in my room putting away my clothes and listening to music. My mom hates when my clothes basket is full, sometimes I don't actually put it away until it starts overflowing. When it gets to that point I, unfortunately, have to put it away, but only do it because I hate wrinkly clothes.

Normally when I put away my clothes, I usually clean my room too. It's not that my room's messy in that sense, it's just that I like it when my room is vacuumed regularly and the shelves are dust-free. So my room's never messy per se because I hate a messy room.

If I don't clean my room when I feel it needs to be vacuumed or something, the thought sticks in my head until I do. It's like I have to do it or I legit can't relax. So generally Saturdays are my 'cleaning' days, sometimes I don't bother or hold off depending on my mood.

Right now I'm listening to a new playlist I just made, full of Harry Styles, Shawn Mendes, and Bruno Mars.

When I'm finished with my room, I go downstairs to get a bottled water. I'm a little hungry too but my mom is making dinner and if I grab a snack, my mom will be sure to tell me it will spoil supper. So I guess my poor stomach will have to wait.

Feeling bored, I peek into Thomas's room through the crevice of the door. He's to no surprise playing the xbox with his friends as usual. I swear he lives on that thing when he's home.

My mom has a new boyfriend and has invited him over for dinner. Most people would be excited but not me, meeting new people was not in my area of expertise. In fact, I detest it. It gives me super anxiety and considering I have to make a good impression, the pressure is kind of panic building.

I hope whoever he is, he doesn't try to get to know me. I'm not a talker, especially when it's about myself. Sometimes I feel like if I talk about myself or any of my accomplishments of sorts, it's being self-centered or it's annoying. So I don't

Thomas, on the other hand, will probably talk up a storm, he can talk to anyone, anywhere. What I call a social butterfly, completely unlike me. I wish I was like that, but when people talk to me I get nervous and don't know what to end up saying back. Most of the time I nod my head and smile. If I try to talk, the words don't come outright.

Honestly, the idea of my mom having a boyfriend bothers me more than I'd like to admit. It feels like a replacement, and I don't like that.

For dinner my mom decided on making chicken alfredo, most people like it and hers specifically is amazing. My mother's cooking is pretty bomb, but me, I didn't inherit the gene. I don't really care though because I hate cooking, it's just boring and time-consuming.

I asked my mom if I could eat upstairs and she could just pretend I wasn't home. She scuffed and said, I'll be fine. My little ounce of hope that she would say yes, was shattered.

"Ella go upstairs and get cleaned up, oh, and put on something nice." My mom tells me, stirring the food.

"Define nice, because I'm not wearing a dress," I reply sharply.

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