Maybe I Wasn't Enough

I still hadn't read the letter my mom had given me. I couldn't. I was scared. What if it was just her telling me how much she hated me? What if she really was abused by that guy, but decided not to tell Tony? What if she was leaving Andy and I?
"Izzy, you're gonna have to read it." Mike said, after I explained everything to him.
We where currently in his room. My legs folded, and the sealed envelope in my long slender fingers. He was spread ocross the bed, his arm supporting him.
I sighed. "I know, but I'm scared, Mikey. What if she hates me?" I bit my lip. I couldn't bare the thought. What if everyone hated me? Was I really that horrible?
"Isobella, she's your mother. She won't ever hate you." He said, attempting to comfort me.
I sighed. "Fine, I'll open it. But first, come down stairs and take a few shots with me?" I asked.
Mike chuckled. "You're serisously gonna get drunk before you open it?"
I gasped. "Whatever! I do not get drunk that easy!" I protested.
He chuckled. "Please! You get drunk on a fith! Do you realize how small you are?" He asked.
I sighed in defeat. "Well then!" I said, sticking my tongue out at him. I sat the letter on the side of Mike's bed, and we walked down stairs.
I poured the first shot, and handed the bottle to Mike.
I took a few more, and was finally ready to open the letter.
"Alright, ready?" I asked.
Mike nodded, and we both ran upstairs.
I tore the letter open, and cleared my throat before reading aloud.

"Dear Isobella Helena,
I know you think I hate you. You're my daughter; I know exactly how your mind works. I need you to stop worrying so much, okay? Have you told those friends of yours about your depression, selfharm addiction, and frequesnt anxiety attacks-?"
"Izzy! Why didn't you tell me? I need to know these things!" Mike said, causimg me to flinch.
"It's not that big of a deal." I reassured him.
"It is a big deal! What if you had been serisously hurt?!" I sighed, and shook my head. I got up, and walked downstairs. I needed to finish reading this, and he was making it hard to concentrate.

'They need to know. They're your friends, Bella. You should let them know in order of your safety.

You seem happy around them. If you want to stay with them, I wouldn't blame you. They seem like great guys. Especially Tony. It was really nice of him to come over and make sure I was okay. He's a kepper.

On the topic of boys, do you have anyone that comes to your mind? Any one of your friends you fancy? I'm pretty sure thay're all falling in love with you. Your charm, beauty, and personality tends to do that.

Sam called earlier today. He wanted to knwo how you where doing. He said he was going to be able to make a trip when you graduate high school. How great is that? I know you both miss eachother, Isobella. I know how you work. You've been trying to push him out of your mind. Trying to forget about him. Trying not to grieve. But grieveing is okay, sometimes. You've just got to make sure that your head stay upon your shoulders when you do.

Well, I love you. Stay perfect!
Love, Mommy.'

"Izzy!" Mike called from the top of the stairs.
I sighed. "What do you want?" I asked, walking back up the stairs, slowly.
I followed him into his room, and he slammed the door behind me.
"Mike, will you please stop being a bitch?" I asked.
He looked at me, anger filled his eyes.
"Me? A bitch? You're the one who gets mad over stupid little things!" He screamed.
"Excuse me? Last time I checked, I'm a human, and I have emotions, idiot." I spat.
"So I'm an idiot now?" He screamed. "Well then why don't you go and screw a different group of friends, you fucking whore!"
"Mike! What the fuck is that about?!" I asked. "I've never fucked any of your friends! And I never will, now that you told me to leave!" I reached for the door, but he pushed my up aganinst the wall.
"You're not leaving." He said. "I never told you to do that."
"Oh really?! I'm pretty sure you just told me to fuck some other group of friends! And since I'm a whore, I might as well, huh?!" I screamed, struggling to escape his grasp.
"I didn't mean it like that." He whispered.
"You still said it! Now let me go!"
He tightened his grasp on my arms, and pushed himself against me. His body heat radiating off of mine.
"Mike! You're hurting me!" And with that, he quickly let go.
"Why don't you go and watch fucking Star Wars with Tony!" He said.
"I will! You fucking bi-polar bitch!" I screamed, before running down the stairs, and slipping my Toms on. "Fuck..." I mumbled under my breath, before running back upstairs, and grabbing my letter.
I was pushed against the closed door, once again, and Mike crushed his lips roughly to mine.

I was taken back at first, but then kissed back. He played with the hem of my shirt for a moment, before I threw my arms up, and broke the kiss long enough for him to take my shirt off. He attempted to connect our lips again, but I subdued it by jerking his shirt off. I crushed my lips to his again, and ran my hands over his bare chest. After a moment of struggling, he unclasped my bra. His hands explored the new area of my body, and slowly moved to the back of my thighs. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around him. I pulled off my pants, and kicked my shoes off in the process. In one swift movement, Mike's pant and boxers where off. He centered himself between my legs, and shoved himself in me, going faster and harder with each thrust. I squeezed my eyes closed, as I moaned out his name.

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When I awoke the next day, I felt Mike trailing sweet kisses down my collar bone. I smiled, but didn't open my eyes.
"Morning." He said.
I groaned, and opened my eyes. I looked at him, and placed a sweet kiss upon his lips before snuggling into him again.
"Baby, we have to get up." He said.
I sighed. "Why?" I asked.
"Because we have to go to school in 10 minutes." He answered.
"Can't we just skip again?" I asked.
"No. You're gonna get through high school, even If I don't." He protested.
I groaned, and grabbed my duffle bag, before heading to the bathroom, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed quickly. I decided to just put a head band in my hair, and let it fall free for the day. I didn't even bother to do my makeup.
"You should do that to your hair more often." Mike said, as I slipped my Toms on, and grabbed my book bag.
I shook my head. "I hate my hair when it's curly. So shut up, buttface." He chuckled as we walked to school.