"ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴡᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪ ᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴛɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏʀᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴜᴘ."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Maybe there was something seriously wrong with me, and that was why sustaining relationships was so difficult. I considered it a viable reason behind why and how I managed to mess up every single friendship or familial relationship I've ever had—only to be sidelined and often left on the side of the ditch in pain.

I used to think my mom was the problem in everything—that she, my sister, and my entire family decided I was the black sheep, the odd one out, the charmless one. But now, after everything, after Kyran Drake, I was starting to realize they were right. I was so concerned about how amazing I was that I failed to see what was in front of me.

Maybe that's why I ended up like this. After Eliza's breakdown, she was in her room, seemingly fine, but it's the Turner family thing. Pretending that everything was fine on the outside, even though we were dying inside. It seemed like I had more in common with Eliza than I thought.

I wanted to ask her if she was alright, but if I read the situation correctly, that would hurt Eliza even more. The last person she needed to see was me, and the last thing she needed was a talk on how my life was shittier than hers.

Even if my life felt like shit, it was probably on the same level of shit as hers. Or maybe not. But did that really matter?

I got the brunt of the consequences in this situation, though I was used to it.

"I don't know what lies you've been spewing to your sister," she said, way too calmly, "I don't want you talking to her leisurely again."

How fabulous. I was the problem, once again.

"I didn't say anything to her." I hyper fixated on the clock on the wall, staring at the quiet tick-tock of its hands, wishing they could fast forward through this conversation. The room felt stifling, almost suffocating me while the light lavender scent from a diffuser on the shelf added to the pain.

"Don't lie to me." My mom's voice was sharper now, her way of saying, 'Stop arguing with me!' "You always have something to say, and it's affecting Eliza's mind."

Her words stung, and I bit my tongue, but I'd already reached a point of numbness. Arguing would only make things worse. Instead, I nodded silently, the urge to defend myself battling with the exhaustion of years of silence. The clock's ticks got even louder.

"I don't understand why you always have to cause trouble," she continued, shaking her head. "Your sister needs your support, not more drama."

The unfairness almost made me laugh. Drama. I loved that she was acting like I thrived on it, as if I went out and sought drama to ruin Eliza's life. But whatever, my mom was never going to learn.

And with that, the conversation was over. I didn't even get a chance to argue or defend myself.

I left the room—my posture perfect, my feet not making too much noise on the floorboards. The second I left her watch, I let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I was holding in this entire time. The corridor near our rooms was much cooler. As I walked past Eliza's room, I paused. A part of me wanted to knock, to check on her despite everything, but I knew it was probably a bad idea.

Instead, I retreated to my own room, closing the door and leaning against it. An online Student Council meeting in half an hour, and then an assignment for Monday, pre-preparing some Excel sheets for Ms. Walton, English assignments... my brain was going to explode.

I glanced at my desk to see the pile of unfinished work, and the little bookshelves crammed with stories of lives more interesting than mine. But I didn't have the luxury of time to waste on reading stories.

I collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. I really shouldn't waste any more time than I already had, but I needed to think. Was it really me? Was I truly the common denominator in every failed relationship? Mathematically, it seemed correct. The probabilities looped through my mind endlessly, and I realized this wasn't going to help.

A bit late, this goddamn realization.

Kyran Drake. I used to think he was the last straw. The last time I'd attempt to make a connection with a person—a healthy connection. I thought we had something real, but in the end, it crumbled just like everything else.

I should've expected disappointment.

A soft knock on the door startled me. I sat up and raced to my desk without making too much noise. Mom never knocked, and Eliza...

"Yeah?" I called.

The door creaked open, and yes, it was Eliza. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes, but there was something more serious in her expression that I hadn't seen before.

"Can we talk? Or do you have something on?" she asked, her voice sounding slightly annoyed.

I nodded, motioning for her to sit, but she shook her head.

"No, I'll just be a few minutes." She closed the door behind her and fiddled with her fingernails.

"I heard what Mom said," she began, not meeting my eyes.

"Well, it happens all the time. I've gotten used to it."

"Yeah, but it's not fair." She looked awkward. Well, great of her to notice that life wasn't fair. I opened my mouth to respond, but she held up a hand.

"Let me finish," she said, "I've been thinking a lot, and I realized Mom isn't good for either of us. Especially you. So, why don't you just run away somewhere?"

I stared at her, stunned. What the hell was she talking about?

"You could stay at a friend's house or something. Just get away from her, and if she tries to get hold of you, just tell her you'll tell Child Services. Then, she'll leave you alone."

My mind immediately drifted to Kyran, and the offer he made the other day. But that was not an option anymore, and the timing of Eliza's epiphany didn't really help. I had plans—get Senior Year done with and then leave for Princeton. There would be no need to look at my mom ever again.

"Thanks for your pity, Eliza," I said, bitterly. It took my sister a few failed tests and loneliness to realize my life was shit, and she was the reason for it. There was also the fact that Mom would've loved me so much more if Eliza was never born. She'd never have the reason to leave me with my grandparents, and I'd be happier. Maybe.

I was surprised when she didn't leave the room.

"I don't want us to keep hurting each other."

"I'm sorry, but hurting each other? Please elaborate. How have I ever hurt you?" A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard. Now was not the time to cry, and there was no way I was going to do that.

"Okay. Fine. I got you in trouble many times," she said, "But Mom's the problem, not me."

She left my room, leaving me conflicted—angry, confused, annoyed...

How was it that I could feel so much in so little time?

★★★

Monday mornings meant English. English meant sitting next to Kyran Drake and wanting to jump out of the fucking window. It also meant I had a three-hour shift at the reception, and I was already running on three hours of sleep and concealer under my eyes.

So much to love.

The classroom was already buzzing with conversations when I walked in. But when I walked in, everyone stopped and stared at me. Their conversations died, and their eyes carefully analyzed me. I saw at least ten people looking at me up and down.

"What the fuck is so interesting about my face?" I said, before I could think of the situation. Everyone gaped, and there was more deafening silence for a few seconds before everyone went back to whispering. I didn't exactly want to say it, but my brain was not in the working Avery mode any longer. I was pissed off. I spotted Kyran sitting in the seat next to mine, and his eyes flicked up to meet mine. His poker face was unreadable, but something in me twisted painfully at the sight of him. I forced myself to look away, and he moved over to let me take my seat.

"Morning, Avery!" Max called out from behind us.

"Morning," I replied. The last thing I wanted was to have a conversation with anyone. The sooner I got this shit done, the better.

"What were you up to over the weekend, Avery?" Max asked politely, and I appreciated the effort. He was trying so hard not to make this more awkward than it needed to be. But guess what? I wasn't up to it.

"Oh, just finishing all my assignments," I said, "As well as being hated by my family. Just the normal stuff."

My sarcasm wasn't new, but it was new to the people in my class, and to Max. I didn't turn around so I didn't know how he reacted, but he didn't say a word afterward so I found the sarcasm had the effect I intended it to have.

Just when I thought people were going to shut up, Michaela decided to add salt to the wound. How smart of her.

"Did you two break up?" she asked, "That relationship lasted for less time than Gemma's. That's quite interesting. Not in a good way, obviously."

I smiled, and this time, I did turn around.

"So, Michaela, isn't it?" I stopped for dramatic effect. "Maybe if you stopped peering into other people's lives, your own would be just as happy and interesting."

The room went silent again, and Michaela's face flushed red. I felt a small sense of satisfaction, even if it was fleeting. There were tears forming in her eyes, and I knew somehow I'd managed to hit her close to home.

I watched as Michaela pushed past Max and left the room, much to everyone's astonishment. Kyran, for the first time today, turned to me. He grabbed my hand and gripped it.

"Let go, Kyran."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he hissed. "She has family problems, and her parents are getting divorced. I was at her home to help her through it since my parents went through the same thing. So, if you're just jealous..."

"Do you really want to talk about family problems, Kyran?" I asked. "Also, I'm not jealous. I decided that the time I spent with you could be time well spent on more important things. So, thank you for wasting my time, and making me feel shit. Much appreciated."

The room was still, and they were trying so hard to listen to my conversation with Kyran. What a bunch of assholes. Kyran's grip on the other hand tightened, his eyes wide. "What the fuck happened to you?"

I yanked my hand free, scooting over as far as I could to put some distance between us. "I don't have time for this. You want to help Michaela with her problems? Fine. But don't act like you're the most perfect person in existence, and I'm the villain in every part of your story."

I made the mighty mistake of looking at Kyran's eyes. He looked anxious, almost like he was frightened, but he looked like he'd take flip the desk over and scream at me.

Or, maybe that was just me assuming.

"Did you just get worse as a person?" Kyran muttered, his voice barely audible. His words cut deeper than I'd expected, and my plan to remain calm and unbothered about this whole situation was not working. But I was done with pretending to be someone I wasn't. I didn't need to care what he thought.

"Maybe I did. Maybe I just got tired of trying to please everyone when it was clear no one gave a damn about me, and blamed me for their problems," I retorted.

Kyran stared at me for a moment longer before shaking his head. "You know what? I'm done too," he said, turning away from me. "You can go on being miserable alone."

We didn't speak for the rest of class.

When the bell rang, I packed my things mechanically, trying to ignore his presence beside me. I caught glimpses of concerned glances from others, and it almost made me scream at them. Why couldn't they mind their own fucking business?

I was starting to realize that the mundane was actually comforting. I found myself focusing on getting through everything quite normally, burying myself in a routine and avoiding the messiness of emotions. By the time I reached home, my eyes were drooping. My muscles felt like the entire planet was pressing down on them, and the backpack felt like a boulder. I yawned for what felt like the millionth time and trudged upstairs. I sat down at my desk—just ten more things to go.

I stared at the unfinished assignments and textbooks strewn across the surface. I needed to clean them up. Despite the deadlines, I couldn't bring my mind to the present. My thoughts were just jumbling around, playing football with the neurons inside.

I didn't even notice I fell asleep on my desk, and woke up at two a.m. to find the work still undone. At least I got five hours this time. I brought myself to finish everything in a rush, and had a massive realization that there was something fundamentally flawed about me.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

Happy weekend my lovelies,

I'm sorry for taking Avery and Kyran back to enemies but you know, I love pain and angst with these characters. I hope you liked Avery spiraling out of control with the amount of work she's doing and the amount of people making her go crazy. And, we get a bit of Eliza's redemption arc so this was super fun to write. 

Life wise: I'm manically writing since it's the summer so that's something. I wish I had something more interesting to tell you, but my life is pretty boring istg. 😂

Once again, thank you for reading and voting and commenting. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did, a vote and a comment will make my day. 😍

That's all for now,

Dree. 💕😘