Lighting a Match in the Rain

Chapter Eight

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Speeding down the stairs, I skipped the last and lost my footing, but fortunately caught myself before I fell. "Good morning," I greeted my parents as I entered the kitchen and grabbed a blueberry pancake off the plate my dad handed to me. I took a bite and grabbed my backpack as Macey skipped in the doorway.

She made a face at me. "Ew, why are you eating a pancake like that?"

"Because it's good as is?"

"You put it on a plate and eat it with a fork with syrup on it. That's how this works."

I shook my head and waved the flimsy pancake in the air. "Dad's pancakes are perfect as they are." I slipped my dad a wink, making him laugh. "Now hurry up and eat. We gotta go."

"Relax, I already have."

She grabbed her backpack and we left the house, calling out our goodbyes over our shoulders. We got in my car and as I turned on the ignition, I winced as I heard a sputtering sound before it started up.

"What was that?" Macey asked me, eyeing me as she buckled her seatbelt.

"No clue."

"It didn't sound good."

I shrugged, hoping if I ignored it, it would go away. "I'm sure it's fine..."

She didn't look like she believed me but I didn't know what to tell her. Car trouble was the last thing I wanted to add to my life right now. For a few minutes, we rode to nothing but the soft tune of the radio before Macey started talking about one of her new best friends that she had invited to come over on Friday. "Just make sure you aren't too loud. I think Julian is coming over so we can work on our project."

"Ooo," she sang. "Julian."

I rolled my eyes. "There's nothing going on other than a project."

"Not yet."

Driving past the grocery store we usually go to, we were both quick to notice something wasn't right and I immediately slowed down so we could get a better look. Cops were everywhere. There were three police cars, an ambulance, and a firetruck scattered on the lined cement. The glass doors and massive windows of the store were shot out in most places, leaving shards of glass all over the place.

"Who do you think is doing this?" Macey questioned from beside me. Her voice was timid and barely above a whisper. I guess she had heard all about the other crimes going on in the past couple weeks. "You don't think they will break into any houses, do you?"

I finally tore my gaze away from the scene and to my worried little sister, shaking my head. "It seems like they are targeting business. At least so far, anyway."

"But Dad's--."

"Dad's restaurant will be fine," I assured her, already knowing where her thoughts were headed. "He will be fine."

"Promise?"

She was old enough to know that I couldn't quite promise something like that but I knew she trusted my judgement and just wanted to hear the words off my lips. "I promise."

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There are villains in every story—at least a type of villain anyway. And the author makes you hate them for all their worth. But why do you actually hate the villain? Do you know their backstory? Their choices that led to where they are? Their experiences that led them to this outcome?

Unlike most villains I came across, I knew his. I knew Sebastian's. And a part of me still wanted to hate him. I knew his mother was hateful and cruel, and I knew she treated him badly, but a big part of me still wanted to hate him. Maybe it's because, behind every strong person, there's a story that gave them no choice. Did Seb choose to go about our relationship the way he did? Yeah, I guess he did.