The weekend went by slow. It rained too much to ever go outside. I spent most of my time watching TV or staring out the window. It made me almost wish it were a school day so I would have something to do.

After dinner, I followed mom up the steps and to the bathroom. I was only allowed to use it to wash my hands and to get a bath each night.

It looked mostly the same compared to our old bathroom. This bathroom had a marbled countertop at the sink and a gray shower curtain, one mom bought for the move. The rugs were a soft blue to match the towels.

Mom pulled my dress over my head and put it in the hamper by the door. Then I laid down for her to remove the diaper and clean me up before I got into the tub.

She grabbed a small towel off the shelf and draped it over the side of the tub. Then she helped me into the water, telling me to sit down.

All week, I hadn't been a fan of mom giving me a bath. I was old enough that I could get a shower on my own. Though I was starting to realize that being eighteen meant I was old enough. Fifteen didn't.

Mom covered the towel in soap before rubbing my arms and shoulders. "I'm sorry the weekend was such a bust."

"It rains a lot here." I said, picking at my nails.

Mom laughed. "We've only been here a week."

"I looked this place up before we came here and it said it rains a lot."

Her motions slowed and I was sure she was worried I'd seen something I shouldn't have. Like finding out the place was a cult or something.

"There's a national park like an hour away. Most of the articles I read were about it. Do you think maybe we can go there sometime?"

I could feel her body relax at my words as if talking about something different put her mind at ease. "Maybe when the weather is nice."

Once I was out of the tub and dried off, mom put a clean diaper on me and helped me into a long t-shirt. While she was cleaning up the bathroom and draining the tub, I found myself bored and needing something to keep me occupied until I had to go to bed.

I walked downstairs and glanced at the kitchen before thinking better and going to the living room.

Dad was sitting on the couch, watching the news. He looked up as I walked in. "Hey, Ly. Come sit."

I shifted my weight but didn't move. "Can you get me something to drink?" I hated asking him to do it but I knew without a doubt that I would get yelled at for getting it myself.

He muted the TV and stood. "What do you want?"

I bit my lip. "Do we have any coke?"

His lip twitched at the mention of my favorite soda. "I'm sure mom has some stashed in the fridge." He headed into the kitchen as I sat down on the couch, my head resting on the arm. "You can turn to something else. I know this isn't very entertaining."

I left the TV on the station dad had it set to already. I wasn't feeling up to watching anything I used to and it felt like most stuff was too boring. I mainly just wanted the company.

Dad came back into the room with a water bottle in his hand. It had a mouthpiece similar to a sippy cup.

I raised a brow as I took it from him, already knowing what mom would say.

He sat back down on the couch and grabbed the remote. He held it out to me but I shook my head. "Regular sippy cups don't handle the fizz of soda very well."

"Mom's gonna be mad at you."

He winked at me. "Oh well."

I sipped at the soda, finally feeling like myself again. I knew these moments wouldn't last long. I was still, after all, wearing a diaper and expected to use it. No matter what I did to avoid all the new changes, they were still there, pestering me.

After several minutes of watching the TV and dad trying to find something we might both enjoy, he muted it on some movie and turned to face me.

"Do you like it here, Lyla?"

I set the water bottle on the floor beside me. "If I'm being honest, it's probably the worst thing I've ever been through. But my life hasn't been bad enough to compare to anything else."

"Are you adjusting to everything? It's not... overwhelming to you?"

I shook my head. "It's not... terrible. I know we've only been here a week but I've kind of gotten used to it." I was used to my bath time with mom and going to school every day. I knew the odd expectations of me and tried my best to follow them without putting up too much of a fight. I would say I was handling things better than most would in my situation.

Mom walked down the steps and headed for the small laundry room just off from the kitchen. I'd seen it once but since I wasn't expected to do my own laundry, I didn't pay any mind to it.

I was just pulling the blanket off the back of the couch when mom walked in the room carrying a basket of laundry that needed to be folded.

She was two towels in when she noticed the water bottle on the floor beside me. She sighed. "Lyla, you know you're supposed to be using a sippy cup-"

"Joyce, it's alright." Dad said from the other end of the couch.

I rolled onto my side and covered myself up with the blanket. I knew until I got used to the new rules, I would hear mom scolding me or correcting the things I did. It would take time before I was completely used to it all. And I needed her to accept that.