Without the pressure of school and the Badger Times weighing on me, it was easy to fall right back into the safety of the movie, and even though it wasn't a long movie in the first place, the time flew by until Brooke got home from school. She was easily the most disappointed and embarrassed person about what had happened between Corey and me, and I hoped she would leave that topic alone, especially since I had brought a guest. She was old and mature enough not to make another scene, right?

Well, all I could do was hope.

Out of all the arguments we had through the years (Mom blamed the age difference), most of them were silly and forgotten within a few days. But this one wasn't the same. I had made a life-changing decision, and it was scary, and she was mad at me for not taking her feelings and Mom's well-being into account in the moment. We hadn't exactly spoken of it since, but I knew well enough that she hadn't forgotten it either.

Maybe underneath all the early teenage selfishness she had a tiny point. But how much more was I supposed to sacrifice for the family?

The door opened, and in came Brooke, and I caught her eye when she set her backpack down on the couch next to me.

"Is school over for you already?" she asked.

I nodded.

She let out a long sigh. "That's not fair. How come I still have a-whole-nother week to go before break?"

"Because college is harder than eighth grade," I said.

"Well, you're also older than me, so that should be enough to even it out."

I was well aware of that fact, but I smiled anyway. "It's nice to be home, Brooke. I missed you."

"Missed you too. Who's this guy?"

I turned to Ryan. I hadn't heard him say a word in about an hour, and that must have been a record time for him.

"This is Ryan. He's a photographer, and we end up working together on a lot of projects since he likes the same stuff as I do," I said.

Ryan pulled his eyes away from the TV for just a moment. "Nice to meet you, Brooke. Layla has a lot of good things to say about you."

Brooke laughed. "You don't have to lie for her. I know better."

Ryan looked at me for a second, then went back to the movie. I sure had put too much faith in Brooke's manners, hadn't I?

"It's true, though. It takes a lot of courage to help your mom at your age," Ryan said.

Rookie mistake from me to think he was done talking.

Brooke hesitated for a moment. "Well, thank you." And with that, she picked her backpack back up and took it upstairs to her room.

"And don't make that face, Layla. There's a huge difference between what a middle schooler and a college student can do to help," he continued. Again.

"I wasn't making a face."

"Really?"

"She just threw a cat out into the rain, Ryan. How can I not make a face at that?"

Ryan rolled his eyes back to the screen. "And you're a good person too, Layla. Don't worry."

I really wasn't worried about that. I had given up on that idea very quickly within the past few days. But I didn't say that. It was just getting to the good part of the film.

***

Breakfast at Tiffany's was just the beginning of my relaxing Christmas break, and after I took Ryan to the airport to finally be with his family again for the holidays, I had all the time in the world to focus on taking care of my mother and myself.

I certainly wasn't used to having any time to think about anything but working and writing, and it was a welcome change.

Just me, Mom, and Brooke.

I checked the clock. It was nine in the morning, and I was still in bed.

What was I supposed to do with all of the time in the world? My work schedule wasn't busy, I had no homework or articles to write, and Mom was in the next room and didn't need another dose of her meds quite yet.

Did some people choose to live like this? How was I supposed to relax without anything to do?

I was struggling to come up with any good articles to write for the paper, and although I was about forty minutes off of campus, maybe a real idea would come to me. I capitalized on my fake idea, and hopefully, I had made my point to Isabel and would never have to sell out like that again. Either that, or she knew I didn't have a backbone or standards anymore and would use that to her advantage.

Isabel really couldn't graduate soon enough.

"Layla? Are you awake yet?" Brooke called from the other side of my bedroom door.

I had been awake, but I still wasn't ready to get up yet, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Layla? I'm bored. Can you take me to Olivia's house?"

I rolled my eyes. Couldn't I have one Saturday to not sleep in?

Before I could not respond, she opened up the door. "I knew you weren't asleep."

"Because you woke me—" I trailed off. It wasn't like I had anything better to do. "I'll take you to Olivia's if you give me an hour."

She nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

I forced myself out of my bed, and although I wasn't quite ready to start another empty day, I headed downstairs to get myself something to eat, and my sister followed along. Nine was a little late for breakfast, but it was the most important meal of the day.

Maybe I could write something about the science of that cliche—

I shook my head. That had been done a million times, and it was always true. And people who skipped it weren't going to change their minds.

"Can I ask you something?" Brooke asked as I put some bread in the toaster.

"Go ahead," I said.

"So was that Ryan guy your friend, or is he just someone you work with a lot, and you were just doing a favor for him?"

"He's probably the closest thing I have to a friend at school, except for this one drunk girl I met at a party," I said.

I hadn't spoken to Courtney since she told me not to delve into her story, which probably wasn't great of me. It wasn't my intention to treat her like she was just another story to me, but how was I supposed to check in on a girl I only met briefly?

Well, Layla, you have to find some way to do that.

I put that on my mental to-do list. Isabel would have her number, and I had nothing but time that I owed her.

"So he's your friend," Brooke said.

I nodded. I thought that was clear.

"Is he supportive?" she asked.

I nodded again, but I wasn't quite sure why he needed to be in her mind. "Usually, but sometimes he talks too much and ruins whatever nice thing he's trying to say."

She dropped the topic, and after I got myself dressed and just ready enough to not leave my car, I drove Brooke to her friend Olivia's house, which was only a few minutes away. They had been friends for a few years, and I had met her a few times, but she was a lot younger than me, and there was only so much we could discuss.

There was just a little bit of fresh snow covering the grass and road, which certainly wasn't bad for a Wisconsin December day. Olivia scurried down the shoveled driveway, and she stopped at my driver's side window. She gestured for me to roll it down, but I was just there to drop off Brooke. I hadn't even done most of my makeup.

"Can I just say that you're the baddest bitch for getting your side of the story out there?" she said.

What? I blinked a couple of times. "I really shouldn't have done that—"

Olivia interrupted me. "No, you should have. He—"

This time, Brooke cut her off. "Liv! Stop talking to her."

Olivia listened and stepped back from the car, and the two of them headed inside to hang out for the day. And as I drove off, I had to swallow a tiny little cry that wanted to make its way out of my throat. I knew I wasn't perfect. I wasn't Audrey Hepburn. But I had a thirteen-year-old girl thinking I was a bad bitch, so clearly I had gone far more off the rails than I had thought.

--------------------------------------------------

Hello, and thank you so much fore reading! I appreciate your support!

So for today's question, what the dress white and gold or blue and black? (Apparently this was eight years ago? Am I getting old?)

It was white and gold.