And then he stopped. Shane leaned his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, our eyes still closed, and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Astra," he mumbled against my lips. "Please don't hurt yourself."
And all at once, his body fell l...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
C H A P T E R T W O
S h a n e ༶ ｡◕
"Get out of here!"
I yelped as Father's foot collided with my chest, shoving me back. I tripped over the stool and fell, the side of my head smacking against the corner of the kitchen counter. A burst of pain seared across my head as I landed on my butt. I groaned, struggling to stand back up. Father glared down at me, cold eyes narrowed.
"You're pathetic," he spat. "Useless. It should have been you, not Vince."
I flinched; he'd said that before and I knew not to take it personally. It wasn't my fault, I knew that. Mother had told me over and over it wasn't, whenever we were by ourselves. But those were just words. Actions spoke louder than words. I knew that.
"Get outta here, bastard." Gladly. Father gave me one last glare before turning around and leaving, going to his seat in the living room.
Wincing, I pressed the palm of my hand to my head, pulling it back and staring at the red stain coating it. I sighed. I didn't have time for this. I turned and grabbed the forgotten car keys from the counter, wiping my hand on my trousers as I spun the keys around my finger, walking outside and starting towards my car - and froze.
Vince sat in his wheelchair next to the red Chevrolet Equinox. His arms were crossed as we stared at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. It reminded me awfully of playing chess with Grandpa whenever we visited him.
"Thought you weren't going today," I said finally, breaking the silence.
"Well, things change, don't they." Not a question. I sighed.
It was weird seeing him, like looking at a reflection. There were only a few ways you could tell us apart - his jaw looked too sharp and I had three small freckles near my nose in the shape of a crescent moon that Vince didn't.
I unlocked the car and grudgingly helped him inside, my arms locked around his chest as I shuffled back and sat him in the front seat before going back and wheeling his chair into the back. I slid into the driver's seat, starting the car and pulling out next to Father's white van.
I didn't hate my twin; he just got on my nerves sometimes. And was also the most self-conceited arrogant jerk in possibly the entire universe. And the multiverse.
We spent the car ride in very tense silence, occasionally broken by his sigh. After about the fifth time, when I was thinking about yanking the wheel in front of the truck in the right lane, there was a snort of laughter. I snapped my head to the side.
"What?"
He tsked. "So snappy, and so early in the morning too."
