16. Maybe We Can Talk About It

I know I was. I wanted so bad for Ashley's attack to be mine. I told Amanda about it. I may or may not have told Mom or someone else but I don't even know anymore. I wanted it to be me who got abducted, instead of Ashley. She wouldn't have left. My life could have gone back to normal. Now it never will.

Was that a selfish thought? Wanting things the way I wanted them?

Was it stupid? I mean, obviously. I was raped and beaten anyways.

Was it just a natural instinct? We've known each other for nearly a decade.

I just don't know.

But this was a burning thought I had for the longest time. I wanted it to be me.

And then it happened.

I guess I should stop wanting things.

I don't care who says it isn't true. I asked for it. I legitimately asked for it to be me instead of Ashley. It was me and Ashley but still.

I can't keep reading after that. She is thinking dangerous thoughts. They're scaring me.

I probably thought things like this for awhile. But not nearly as descriptive as for why. She has reasons.

I tape the notebook back into place, no guilt forming.

Why did she think...she...I just don't get it.

*Ellie's POV*

"Don't you have any male friends?" I ask lightly. "Girls aren't supposed to set up cribs."

"I was waiting to see how long you would hold up. Fin's gonna be here in a half hour."

I roll my eyes and stomp back into the living room. "You suck."

"I know."

I take a slice of my pizza out of my box and take a bite. Not gonna lie, Amanda being pregnant gives me access to all of my comfort foods. Which is great.

We turn back to Chopped.

"I hope the girl gets cut. That food doesn't even look good," Amanda says.

"It's a purée. It's not supposed to look good," I reply. "And the fact it's not pizza could be a factor."

"Pizza is food of the gods. You know that."

Well, she isn't wrong.

I grab another piece of pizza and start to eat when there's a knock at the door. Ugh I have to get up.

I check to make sure its Fin, then turn the doorknob. I just nod my head at him to say hello because I have mouth full of pizza.

"You can't even say hi?" Fin asks as I turn to go back to my spot.

"I'm eating." I say, my mouth still full.

"Charming. Hey 'Manda."

"I'm also eating," Amanda replies with her mouth equally as full.

"Are you sure you aren't Amanda's birth daughter?" Fin asks me.

My mouth isn't full this time. "Mom does it!"

"Not around me."

I give him a look. He knows Mom does that with Chinese.

"Fine. Where are these cribs?"

Amanda and I point down the hall to the guest room.

"Don't strain yourselves guys. I got this," he says sarcastically, putting his hands up.

I smile back at him and relax back into the couch.

"Any ideas on names?" I ask. Amanda's been pouring over the baby naming book and websites. In the book she has different names highlighted with different colors, circled, scratched out, very few left blank.

"I like Erika," she says.

"So name one of them Erika," I reply, not getting the issue that I know is there.

"It's not that simple!"

"Alright," I say, putting my phone down. "What's the problem?"

"Well for one, what if I don't have a girl?"

"Then name one of them Erik."

"No, ew."

It's one letter difference. I don't get her logic there, but whatever.

"What about for a boy?" I get up and sit on the armrest of the couch she's on.

One name on the current page remains unmarked. "Hunter?" I ask, pointing.

"I always liked the name."

"So you marked the problems you had with all the names?" I ask.

"Sort of. Green highlighter is the names I just don't like. Yellow is the names I won't pick because of people I don't like. Then the crossed out ones are the ones I don't want."

"Uh huh," I say, only half getting her methods.

"Well I like those names," I say because I don't know what else to. I never thought of the whole naming process so I don't get her worry.

"I just hope they're healthy. That's all I want right now."

"Well they might be fat because of all this pizza."

"Pizza is all you eat and you're not fat. I'm hoping that happens to them."

"Depends on how much stress they have," I say, going back to my spot.

"They're babies," she says. And I know she disapproval of my remark.

"I know. But knowing I'll be around all the time...that could be pretty damn stressful."

She smiles. "Are you sure you're okay to watch them? I know you-"

"It's not like I've never watched any kids before."

"I know but-"

"It'll be fine, Amanda," I hear Fin yell from the other room.

"Good thing you always knew the right thing to say," she calls back sarcastically.

Fin stays until Mom comes and picks me up. When she does, she seems...off.

"So how was Amanda's?" she asks. And I always reply the same way.

"Good."

"What did you do?"

"Ate pizza. Looked at baby names. Fin came and set up the cribs."

"How is she? I haven't been able to talk to her."

"She's good. She eats everything but I mean...emotionally she's alright."

"That's good. I was a mess when I was pregnant with you," she comments.

"Welcome," I reply.

We pull up to our apartment.

*Olivia's POV*

Five minutes. That's how long it takes for her to come out and yell at me.

I'm sitting on the couch with a file in my lap, pouring my brains into this case. We figured out what this perp did and how and when, but we have no proof.

All of a sudden, there's the sound of a door slamming against the wall because she whipped it open so fast.

"What the hell, Mom?!"

I look up and see her holding the old notebook.

"What?" I ask, playing dumb. Real mature.

"Next time you read my journal, make sure to tape it back in place the right way," she says, suddenly calmer. But I know she isn't calm. Passive-aggressive is how to describe both our anger, and her brown eyes are slowly turning black.

"Ellie, I-"

"Whatever, Mom," she snaps, turning and going back to her room. I get up to go to her, but she slams her door and locks it.

"El, let me in."

"I didn't get the chance," she remarks, and then I hear something hit the door.

"El, don't make me kick the door in."

"Then I guess we're gonna have a broken chair on our hands."

"Ellie, I'm serious."

She doesn't reply.

*Ellie's POV*

"Ellie, I'm serious."

So am I. And I have to shut up in order for her to see that.

I look over to the chair under the doorknob. My eyes then flick to the dresser, but I know I'm not gonna wanna move it back once it's in front of the door.

I sit on my bed, pulling my knees up to my chin. Out of anyone, I expected Mom to get that she shouldn't ask about what I do in therapy or if I'm even okay. I can't believe she did that.

How much did she read? Probably the whole thing.Why did she do it? She should have at least an idea of what we talked about.Did she expect me not to find out? Obviously.

I feel exposed. Vulnerable. And I don't like it.

My feet push the blankets on my bed down a little so I can get underneath them. I stay curled in a fetal position, letting tears roll down my face. That's how I fall asleep.

When I wake up, its because there's a knock at my door again, then I hear quiet arguing.

Another knock, and then, "Ellie, open the door."

It's Elliot. But I know Mom's out there.

I get up and walk over to the door, resting my head on the wall. I don't want to open the door, so I don't. I reach out and touch the wood, but only that. "No," I say, as loud as possible, which is only above a whisper.

"I'm sending your mom out," he says.

"You aren't a good liar."

"I'm serious, El. She's gone."

I lie down on the floor and see only one set of feet.

Slowly, I remove the chair and open the door. But only a couple inches. My eyes dart to the right, and I see the shoes Mom always wears are still by the door.

Turning my attention back to Elliot, I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows.

"She isn't coming in here, I promise."

I roll my eyes and take a step back, letting Elliot come in. He closes the door and even locks it for my amusement.

The first thing he says surprises me. "You can't do that to your mother."

"Hm?"

"You can't shut your mother out like that."

"What? It's unusual for a teenager to stay in her room all night?"

"Not when she's an SVU Detective's daughter who is being watched for mental status."

I roll my eyes. "For the last time. I'm not doing drugs. I'm not drinking. I'm not starving myself and I'm not going to kill myself!"

"Shh! Your mother is still in the apartment and can hear you. Don't say anything to make her more upset."

"All she ever is is upset with me. It isn't news to me, sorry, with a wave of my hand, I start to pace.

"For one, that isn't true. And for two, she's upset about what happened to you. Not with you."

"There's not much of a difference."

"Yes there is."

"No there isn't. I would go out with my friends or do whatever and she'd get upset. Now I went out and this happened and she's upset."

"Things you did versus what things happened to you."

I stop pacing momentarily. "Whatever. She'll get over it."

"You can't shut her out," Elliot tells me. "You're all she's got."

"She has the squad. She has you."

He stays quiet for a couple seconds.

"You're her daughter. That's her entire world."