chapter seven

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These next two days have gone by pretty peacefully. I've been spending all of the time with my family. Harry and I have been texting back and forth as much as I can since I don't have much service, and he has been working with his team to write some songs. He told me that he is struggling to get inspiration, and it is taking a longer time to come up with things to write about.

Today, my parents planned a hike to a secluded beach, which is supposed to be one of the prettiest places in the world. I am eating breakfast with my family right now, and then we will be going exploring after.

"I'm going to be packing a picnic for us for lunch while we are out there." my mom informs the rest of us. We all nod back in response, and continue the simple small talk.

"So Oakland," my dad starts. Here we go... "who is this boy I keep hearing about?" he asks. I hate talking to my dad about really anything too personal, so this is going to be a highly uncomfortable conversation.

"His name is Harry and he's a singer." my sister butts in, after noticing my uneasiness. She pats my leg under the table, signaling that she will help guide the conversation.

"A singer?" my father eggs on, "so you're falling for bad boys now?" he asks, referring to my ex. I am slowly getting irritated with how this conversation has taken a turn. My jaw clenches to hold back what all is running through my mind.

"Jay..." my mom tried to interject.

"No mom, it's fine. Yes, Harry's a singer but he isn't a bad boy," I defend. "But I doubt you would approve, considering you've only ever liked Lucca." I snap.

He raises his eyebrows at my quick response. "Lucca was a sweet boy Oakland. You know this." he says, "Too bad it ended too soon." he is trying to guilt trip me.

"You know what, I don't want to have this conversation." I snap back. He lifts his arms in defence.

"No, no I understand, I get it." he says with a cocky tone, trying to get under my skin. "I just miss seeing him around, that's all." My father loved Lucca, and saw him as the son he never had. Well, too bad he didn't see how I was treated behind closed doors.

I stood up abruptly, not even caring about how I didn't finish my food. I was done with this conversation, and how my father always gaslights me in every way he can. I roll my eyes as I leave the kitchen in a rush. I head straight down the hall and slam my door shut on purpose to let everyone know that I don't want to be talked to. I layed down on the bed in defeat. I know my father feels that he won the argument, and is probably on his achievement high. I let out a sigh, knowing that I will have to spend all of my time with him today.

I feel a single tear slip down my cheek, and I instantly sit up and whip it off. I don't have any reason to cry right now, and letting even a single tear out shows a sign of weakness.

I'm not weak. I'm not weak.

I decide to distract myself, and start to get ready for the day. I turn on some music, one of my upbeat playlists to lift my mood. Free Time by Ruel started playing, and I climbed off of my bed and headed into the bathroom. I splashed my face with some cold water, and brushed my hair and teeth. As I went back into the room, a soft knock on the door caught my attention. My mom peeked her head in with a sympathetic look drawn across her face.

"Hey bug," my mom says softly. She knows that calling me by my nickname somehow calms me down a bit, so she started only doing it when I was upset. It warms my heart to know that she is trying to make me feel better. She walks fully into the room after realising that I wasn't still fully mad. "I just wanted to come check on you." she says with a sweet smile.

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