A Little Bit Longer

After walking through her front door, Mia entered the living room to see her mother folding up washing. She knew what would happen now; she would be lectured about how revealing the dress she'd worn was, then she'd be told to put away all the clothes in her bag, then her father would come home from work and also lecture her about the dress. To Mia's surprise, this didn't happen.

"Your outfit for the show wasn't the one you picked out, Mia. But it was very beautiful nonetheless," Deborah told her, laying down a blouse on her lap. Rolling her eyes, Mia hung her bag up and sat down next to her mother, helping to fold the clothes.
Glancing up a her mother for a moment, she noticed that her face was more drawn and fatigue than ever, with dark bags around her eyes. Little parts of her hair hung over her face, when they were usually kept back neatly. Her eyes were shining with what looked like unshed tears, sparkling whenever she moved. Her hands shook as she picked up items of clothing. Mia suddenly found herself reaching over and taking her mother's hand. Deborah immediately stopped and froze, staring at the hand that clasped her own. Mia saw her bottom lip quiver.

That sudden touch between the two created something that they hadn't felt for each other for so many years. That one touch symbolized what they'd been missing out on. All the hurt, misery, even envy evaporated for those few moments, those few moments that created the contact that they'd been too shy and scared to do for so long. Neither wanted to speak first; for that would be breaking the precious moment that they both yearned to share, but didn't have the courage to show their true affection for one another, in fear of rejection. Instead, it was concealed by bullying, intimidation and inequity. Every bone in her body wanted to throw her arms around her daughter and tell her how much she loved her, but again, love was diminished and fear over powered. With every breath that escaped Deborah's body, the sudden love the mother and daughter had felt melted slowly, and soon enough, their hands escaped each others. An awkward silence filled the room and crept into every nook and cranny in which it could fit. Finally, Mia found the strength to speak.

"Mum, are you okay? Have you been thinking about... Her?" The words rolled off of her tongue much easier than she'd expected, as though she meant to say it. Deborah looked down at the beautiful young girl in front of her, knowing that it would be so hard to keep the truth from her. She pushed the folded clothing off her lap, then sighed.

"Amelia, I..." Deborah found herself pausing, as if she had no idea she were even speaking. Talking properly to her daughter wasn't something she was familiar with.

"Yes. I have. I'm sorry, Amelia. I know I'm not supportive. I know that I never allowed you to talk about her, I know how cruel that was. I'm so sorry, darling. I'm sorry for who I've become," she suddenly stopped, trying desperately to prevent the real Deborah from coming out. She would not allow herself to cry. There was something inside of her that had too much pride.

"So have I. The plane, when I had to get on it... She was all I could think about." Mia admitted, trying her best not to look at her mother's strained face. She saw her nod from the corner of her eye.

I talked to my mum. For the first time in eleven years, properly. Like her daughter. Not something she has scraped of the heel of her $250 shoes. I felt like I was appreciated, like she loved me. We talked about Annie. Me and my mother talked about Annie! I couldn't believe it. I feel like we've started a new, something fresh. It's hard to believe... But it happened.
- And I'm so happy. :')

Mia was shocked as she glanced at her clock beside her, to see it was half ten, the latest she'd ever woken up. As she walked across the landing and downstairs, Deborah was waiting for her at the bottom. She nervously handed her a cup of tea, smiling softly at her. Mia smiled back, taking the cup of tea and heading into the kitchen. She immediately noticed the difference. The tea towels weren't folded neatly; they lay strewn across the worktops. There was still washing up in the rack, it hadn't yet been put away. There were still few crumbs from biscuits on the table. The sugar, coffee and tea jars were out on the side instead of stowed away in the cupboards. Mia understood this as her mother starting to relax in her own home and feel comfortable. Clearly, it wasn't just her who seemed to have benefited from the previous day. As Deborah followed her daughter into the kitchen, Mia looked at her properly. And for the first time in years, she looked... Happy. Not uptight and agitated.
- Things were starting to feel right.

At eleven, Mia got dressed into a pair of black leggings and a long pale red top with the design of a hand holding up a peace sign, she tied her fair hair back into a scruffy bun, clipping back her fringe and putting in some strawberry earrings. After applying some mascara, powder and cherry lip gloss, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Overly satisfied, she made for her door, but stopped at her window as she saw a figure making their way to her front door. She made this figure out to be Denise, mother of her boyfriend. Rushing downstairs to open the front door, Mia suddenly felt worried. Why is she here? As expected, there came a knock. There stood Denise.

"Hi, Mia. Um, could I come in?" She asked, running her hands through her black locks.

"Yeah, sure," Mia opened the door further, letting in the beautiful but concerned looking woman. After leading her into the living room, she shook hands with Deborah, having not met her yet. Still feeling the smallest bit strange around her mother, Mia shyly asked for some privacy. Nodding, Deborah did as requested. Mia sat down next to Denise, folding her arms in her lap.

"...It's just Nicholas. I'm so worried about him, Mia. Have you noticed anything... Strange?" Denise asked. Mia thought for a moment, her mind replaying the scene back in California.

"Well, I suppose. I mean, he seems to be getting frustrated a lot. You know, what with..." Mia stopped, knowing Denise knew exactly what she were about to say.

"Mmm. I just thought you could talk to him, find out whats wrong." Denise spoke, then sighed.

"I just don't know what's the matter with him. I wish I did," she put her head in her hand for a moment, then came back up, staring right into Mia's eyes.

"I already know why. He's... Annoyed. He hates people constantly watching him. Denise, look, I can't tell you anything. Because I don't know anything. I'm too scared to ask him." Mia told her, her eyes suddenly drawn to Denise's locket that hung around her neck.

"Alright, darling. It's okay. I just thought where you're both so close... It doesn't matter," standing up, Mrs. Jonas made her way out towards the front door. She stopped and turned to Mia. Planting a kiss upon her cheek, she called 'bye bye' up to Deborah and opened the door. Before she left, she smiled at Mia.

"Try and talk to him."

And, try and talk to him is what she would do.

*

Staring into her eyes, Nick felt sick. How could he do that to her? Speak to her that way, and make her feel the way he did? He wanted to pull his curls right out of his head in disgust for himself. Tears rolled down her red cheeks, and he could see her heart breaking into two cold pieces right through her chest. He wanted to reach out and pull her toward him, whisper in her ear he was sorry, that he didn't mean it. But he couldn't, for those words had been said before. He knew he'd crushed her; those words that were probably still ringing through her head had destroyed her. How could I say those things? All she did was ask me what was wrong. I'm horrid. I'm a douche. No, I'm so much worse than a douche. I'm a dick. I'm pathetic. She shuffled away from him, not wanting any part of her limp body to have contact with him. He'd made her feel like nothing. Never, never in a million years she thought he could ever make her feel this way.

Mia: Nick, what's up with you?
Nick: What do you mean?
Mia: I mean, why have you been acting the way you have recently?
Nick: How can you just assume something is wrong with me?
Mia: Oh, come on, Nick. Anyone can see something is really not right with you. Just tell me. Talk to me.
Nick: Why should I? Why should I talk to someone who is only with me so she never gets blamed for anything? Let's face it, Mia, I always take the fall for you. That's it.
Mia: How can you say that? I'm just worried about you, we all are! Do you know that your mum came to visit me today? All because you're worrying her?
Nick: Just shut up, Mia. You don't understand me. No body understands me! You have no idea what it's like to have people constantly watching you, and I'm not talking about the press. So stop pretending.
Mia: Me, pretending? You've changed, Nicholas. You never used to be like this.
Nick: Whatever. You know what? You've changed too. You never used to be so judge mental. You just take one look at me and see a stupid guy who can't look after himself. That's what you see in me.
Mia: I can't believe I'm hearing this. I love you, Nick. Why would I ever think that?
After that, there was an awkward silence. Never before had a time at the hill been this way.
Nick: Because. I don't even know if I feel the same way about you anymore, M. At first, I thought you were different. I didn't think you'd care about my diabetes like the rest. I mean, why would someone want to be with me? I can't even look after myself. Right, Mia?

That's when he started to hate himself. He saw her stunning blue eyes blur up with tears. He felt hatred for himself boil up inside of him and threaten to explode.

*