I'm writing a book and thinking on whether I should include this or change directions. can someone help please

I stayed up all night, hidden behind the trees. Laura wasn’t home and her mum said that she went to see Lily and it was getting dark. So, I went. She stayed the night, so I did too, watching her. How can she be so stupid? Who stays the whole night in the graveguard? And now she has Nat staying here, telling her about her problems, like she needs more on her plate.
No sleep. And a friendly match in an hour. I sigh, moving my car into park.

I walk through my expansive hallway, passing the empty vase in the centre. With one hand holding a blunt and the other holding a beer, I walk to and through the glass double doors out into our garden.
I sit on the coach, sighing deeply. I open the beer, and put the blunt in between my fingers. I know this ain't me. I don’t smoke or drink much but something has to deal with this stress. It wraps around me, almost like thick smoke. It’s in my throat. Always. And my chest too. I call it stress.
I take a sip. Laura appears.
“Luke, what are you doing?” she says, with her eyebrows folding into her face. She has her glasses on. I love the way they frame her face. Black thick frames. She snatches the beer from my grasp, along with the weed.
“Luke, you don’t do these things. Your health is important. Don’t self-sabotage,” She says in a soft tone.
“Don’t act like my mother,” I say and then snarl. “OH…wait, the last time I checked, You're not a mother, period,” My gaze narrows and my lips pulse.
I stare at her. She freezes, like time stopped. So still. Then in the next second, the beer can falls from her grip with a splash and a crunch, she glances down at it and back up. Hurt is written all over her face. Someone claws at my heart and it aches. I stare at her.
She turns and runs, pushing open the sliding doors, back into our house. Someone is squeezing my throat. My mouth tilts down. I don’t feel bad though. I don’t. She should have left me alone. She should leave me alone. I stopped bothering her.
My body itches for me to run, in her direction. No, leave her.
I step over the spillage. Training. Friendly match. Less than an hour to get there. I walk past the blunt that Lau threw on the floor during her descent, towards my room.
Above the stairs, I stop and without instruction, or permission, my body moves on its own accord to our closed door. Hysterical cries and catches of breath sinks into me and bail travels up my throat. The tilt to my lips deepen and my eyebrows fold.
“I’m not a mother,” Lau cries, sounding like she is barely breathing through it and I quietly choke on air.
“Why would you say that? Of course you're a mother and you will always be a mother,” Nat's voice floats through the shut door with her voice wavering. “You hear me. You are,” Now, it sounds like she’s crying too. A tear falls which I harshly wipe away with my wrist and then I stare at it. The name engraved on the inside of my wrist. I stare at my other wrist with the other name. My stomach twists.
“I’m not. Luke said that and he’s right,” Lau muffles with a sniffle, and the sound with the words hit me in the gut. Luke said that. I made her feel like that. You don’t care.
“You are Lily’s mother and she existed. She was here and she was your child and will always be your child. Look at that beautiful baby. Your child. You're a mother.”
“I’m a mother,” Lau squeaks out. “To Lily.”
I can’t listen to any more of this. I turn around, to my room to get ready for training.


Twenty minutes later, I walk into the kitchen to make a protein shake to take with me to training, and a coffee. I have not slept all night. I will need a coffee. But I pause at the entrance. Natalia chops strawberries and oranges, fills wraps on the kitchen island.
I step back but she turns around, and tenses when she sees me, glaring with so much fire in her gaze.
She sighs. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Are you kicking me out of my house?” I say. I know that I deserve every bit of her anger but I talk anyway without thinking. Why am I defending myself? Everything I said was true. But why do I feel guilty and partly sick? It’s not because of the beer or blunt because I barely had any. “Last time I checked. I pay for everything.”
Goosebumps roll up my arms and I feel an intense desire to turn around. She heard that. It doesn’t matter, If anything, It’s good she heard. I listen to her steps, and I feel her at the side of me. I cut my eyes in her direction. Even with her less refined look, she’s breathtaking.
I continue and I don't know why. “So if there is anyone that should leave. It is not me,” Why? She flinches and I do the same, internally. Make your protein shake and just leave.
“You know what? If you have nothing nice to say, then don’t say anything at all–” Natalia says.
“Nat, just leave it,” Laura says, pulling at her arms. “It's fine.”
Her friend glares at me but picks up the large plate and leaves with Laura. I swallow and my eyes prick. Forget the protein shake.