Alive and Shattered

Alive and Shattered: Chapter Eighteen {Adena's POV}

Adena’s POV

 

I looked into the mirror and stared at my reflection. My mother had decided to let me back into the house, only if I agreed Charlotte could have my room and if I apologized.

My mother saw the whole fight as one hundred percent my fault. She even told my father I had become a manic and began throwing insults left and right. Of course, all of this was untrue. I was, however, allowed to get ready to go out in my own room.

When I had been allowed back into the house, Dylan texted me. He wanted to take me somewhere and I agreed. I needed to apologize to him for last night. I had barged into his house and yelled like a moron. I felt so stupid for going to him last night, but he’s all I could think of.

Of course, Quinton wasn’t to happy with me this morning when I attempted to explain why I went to Dylan and not him. I heard a car pulling up and I walked to the window, seeing Dylan’s car pull up. Grabbing my purse, I threw it over my shoulder and jogged down the stairs. Charlotte stood by the front window, looking out of it with an odd look on her face.

“Who is that?” She questioned with a smile.

“A friend,” I replied.

“He’s cute,” she giggled, biting her lip. I opened the door, rolling my eyes at her. She waved to Dylan as I walked to his car, and he returned a confused wave back.

“Who's that?” he wondered as I got into his car. I looked back towards the front door. Charlotte was leaning over, her butt facing the car, pretending to pick something up. I rolled my eyes at her yet again.

“My step sister.” He nodded, seeming completely uninterested in her. In fact, he wasn’t looking at Charlotte. He was looking at me. “How are you?” He questioned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I said, bluntly. I didn’t want to think of getting kicked out of the house. It brought a heavy sadness in my heart.

“You don’t seem fine.” I sighed.

“I’m just… embarrassed.”

“Why?” He wondered.

“I mean, I threw myself at you last night. I can’t believe I did that.”

“Adena,” he said, resting his hand on mine which sat on my lap. “I want you to come to me with things like this. We’re best friends now! And you have no choice!” I started to laugh. I was laughing not only at his joke, but the fact that he just called us best friends.

"What happened with your mother?" He questioned.

"She demanded I apologize.... so, I did."

"Did she accept that and let it go?"

"Sort of.. I see my mother bringing it up again soon; using it against me."

"Oh," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," I looked towards the door, seeing the odd look Charlotte gave me. It was the same look I had received from her when she got home, a look of hatred. "Can we just go?" I questioned. Without a word, Dylan started the car and I watched my house disappear from the window. I could feel an odd sadness in my heart, and I fought tears back.

We drove in silence down the street. As we approached the light it turned red. We pulled up and sat quietly, waiting for it to change. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched as Dylan looked to me. He reached out, placing his hand onto mine, which sat on my thigh. I looked at him but didn't flinch or pull away from him.

"Come on, smile! Be happy... I don't like seeing you sad," I smiled a genuine smile. Dylan could always make me smile. "Hey! Music is the food for the soul, right? Time to turn it up!" He laughed, turning on the radio.