You’d been lying in bed all day, staring at the ceiling, lost in the haze of boredom. The weight of the silence in your room made the hours drag on endlessly. It wasn’t like you had nothing to do—there were probably a hundred things you could be doing—but the motivation to do any of them? Nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, startling you out of your thoughts. You shot up slightly, leaning on your elbows as the familiar voice of your stepmom broke the stillness.

“Hello, sweetheart!"

Meet her: your stepmom. Married to your dad for a few months now, and if you were being honest, the whole thing still felt… weird. Not bad, exactly—she was nice enough, always polite and trying to connect with you—but her vibe was so far from yours it was like you were speaking different languages.

She was one of those women, effortlessly put together at all times. Even now, standing in the doorway in casual loungewear, she looked like she’d stepped out of a Pinterest board. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun that was somehow elegant, and she held a mug of tea in one hand, the faint scent of chamomile wafting into the room.

What made it even harder to click with her, though, was how much she doted on you. She treated you like her little partner-in-crime, always laughing and playing games with you like they were siblings instead of mother and child. It wasn’t uncommon to hear her running through the house, chasing after you in some game of tag or Nerf gun war.

Meanwhile, you… well, you’d been horizontal for about 90% of the day.

“What are you doing hmm?”