ᶦ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵇᵉᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᶦ ᵃᵐ

“Hey, how do you get an art major off your front porch? What? Pay for the pizza.”

@rabbitqveen gets a plotted thing.

❝ YOU MADE IT, ❞ she greeted, beckoning her to step inside and follow her into the kitchen. ❝ Oh, Jeff’s helping Randy tonight and won’t be home until later, ❞ she explained as she flicked the oven’s switch, allowing her to take a look at the meal that had been baking in there for the past 30 minutes. It was almost done, it seemed. At Nat’s comment about her daughter, she sighed rather loudly, as if releasing some kind of unearthed frustration. ❝ Don’t take it personally, she dislikes everyone equally. Don’t you, Callie? ❞ She wished Callie’s behavior were better, especially whenever they had guests over, but this was who she had chosen to be during her teenage years and there was next to nothing she could do about it, unfortunately.

PROMPTS FOR SHARING A MEAL TOGETHER.

@rabbitqveen asked: thank you. that means a lot.

                          With a small easy smile, he looked to her and gave a little nod. "Of course, honey," he breathed, reaching over to pat Shauna's leg before his attention returned to the television. "Well, what time do you think our darling daughter will come home?" Jeff asked after a moment as their show went to commercial break. He wasn't expecting her to come home at all this evening; figured that she would sneak back in sometime in the morning. "Have...have we failed as parents? I mean...we were never this bad with our own right?"

The world seemed tilted on its axis and following that angle was Callie as she unsteadily found her way to the bathroom and shut the door locking it behind her. Her first real experience at a frat party wasn't what she had expected and all she wanted was her mom.

Hands unsteady as she hunkered down close by the toilet, the sixteen year old pulled her phone out and slowly searched for Shauna's contact information in her phone, but before she could hit send, Callie found herself leaning over the toilet. Never again. She would never do this again.

With a cold, sweaty arm run across her mouth and her breathing faster than normal, she finally managed to call her mom, "Mom...please pick up...please..."

She sounded terrified. “I thought you were at Ilana’s,” she spoke into the phone. “Where are you?” Her tone was soft, she the teenager didn’t need a diatribe right now. “Are you in danger?”

She couldn’t remember the last time Callie had actually asked for her help. Since she was allowed to walk home from school on her own, she had quickly become so independent. Soon, the little girl who had once needed her food to be cut up into tiny pieces was gone, replaced by a willful teenage girl.