Brenda wanted a normal school year. Instead her mom died.
Salma needed space from her sister and terrible ex. Or else she'd lose her mind.
Delilah didn't think she'd have any more problems after moving far from her hometown. That was until she becam...
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❝Smart people learn from their mistakes. But the real sharp ones learn from the mistakes of others.❞
-Brandon Mull
*mature chapter; read with caution* please vote
🌥ZIYAN 🌥
My life was falling apart at the seams. Soon, I wouldn't be able to patch up the pathetic pieces of my world back together.
With school, my grades had taken a nosedive. Inside the house, my personality had taken the backseat in the cool car. I was a clown now, no longer seen as the hip guy from Houston.
My love life was non-existent and entirely fictionalized for the sake of my parents. I was a fucking loser. Who the fuck paid for a lover? I had to be one of the lamest people in the entire state of Texas. I should apply for a competition, awarding the sad fucks of the south. I'd probably be a shoo-in for some major category.
To make matters worse, I was partially a ghost in this sleepy sun filled town inside of Collin County. I was still baring my summer tan, gifted to me by the hot Dallas heat that took over the fall season. I almost didn't realize the temperature was meant to change, cooling down the plains and fields I considered home.
Home.
I wanted to laugh.
What was my home?
Houston would soon be a far cry from what I called my safe haven. My parents were probably a second away from writing me off their will, wishing me only death and bad fortune in the afterlife. They hated the girl I picked, and they hadn't even met her yet. It was sad, thinking about how much their distain contradicted their faith and devotion to Allah. Dad didn't see it though; he didn't want to admit that he was a racist. If the stress of that wasn't harmful enough, the anxieties I felt surrounding my court case certain was going to kill me...
...that is, if my dad didn't get to me first.
"My dad wants me to kiss his ass for arranging this lawyer for me," I explained to Salma. We were seated in the living room, munching on a bag of Korean BBQ styled kettle chips. She got it from her store, and she surprised me with it, saying she hoped it would cheer me up.
That's what I liked about Salma so much, making me choose her to be my fake fiancé. She read people well, sensing when their mood was off and nurturing them like a mother. She was the mom of the house, if anyone else could take that title.
Bringing food from work, wafting the house with the smell of baked goods every weekend. She loved to cook to cure her own boredom, but to me, it felt natural to see her in action, reading up the instructions and cracking half a carton of eggs.
"I'm not going to do anything besides thank him. That is, if I somehow survive through the proceedings of the case. With how things are in this state regarding cannabis, I don't think I'll get off that easy."
