Anxious [H.S]

Chapter 18: Sing to Me

*Song: Sweet Creature by Harry Styles*

Author's Note: I change POVs three times so make sure your aware who's POV it is

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Kenna's POV:

I am outside Leah's apartment waiting for her to open the door. I hope Harry is here. Actually maybe I don't, I am on verge of having a breakdown and I don't really want him to see that. Leah finally opens the door after what seems like hours. I walk into the kitchen and see that Olive is already sitting at the counter. I sit next to her as Leah stands across from us.

"Is Harry here?" I ask. I can't stop tapping my leg. I am just so angry.

"No he is picking up his guitar from Mitch, why?" Leah asks, concerned.

"Because I feel like I am going to lose it and I don't think I really wanted him here to see that," I reply.

"What's wrong?" Olive questions.

"My parents, that's what's wrong," I say, looking at her.

"What happened now?" Leah asks.

"She just walks all over me all the time and then expects me to help her when she needs help. I have been holding this in for too long and I feel like I am going to explode," I explain, glancing at Leah as she crosses her arms.

"What do you mean she walks all over you?" Olive asks, taking her beanie off.

"She just treats me like shit. 'Kenna you need to lose weight.' 'Kenna you need to stop giving us so much attitude.' 'Kenna you need to dress better.' I am literally done with her telling me how to live my life!" I say, raising my voice. Making Leah widen her eyes.

"You should call her," Olive mutters, playing with a strand of her hair.

"What?" I stare at her like she has ten heads.

"Call her. Tell her how you feel, we'll back you up," she says.

"Right now?" I ask, nervously.

"Right now," she says.

"It's going to be okay Kenna, we are here for you," Leah says, trying to comfort me.

"Okay," I say, picking up my phone, opening it to my mom's contact and putting it on the counter.

"Alright, go ahead," Leah encourages.

I stare at the contact for a few seconds and press call, putting it on speaker so they can hear what's going on. It rings a few times before my mom answers.

"Hello," she says.

"Mom?" I ask.

"Yes Kenna?" she questions. I can hear the irritation already growing in her voice.

"I need to talk to you about something," I state.

"What Kenna? I am a busy woman," she says. Oh no this is not going to end well.

"I don't like the way you treat me," I mumble, with no confidence.

"Oh please, don't be a baby," she says. I can tell she is rolling her eyes just by her voice.

"It's true, you tell me I need to lose weight, that I need to dress better, mom you walk all over me and then expect me to be there when you need help. I don't want to help you anymore. And to top it all off it breaks my heart when you call me because I think you want to talk to me or even hang out with me but you just need me to do something for you. You never do anything for me. I'm sick of it mom. You make me feel horrible about myself," I explain, trying to keep my cool.