4. Unforgiven

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                                              There’s a Rebel in MY bed!

                                             Chapter 4 – Unforgiven

                  Song of the Chapter: It’s Not Right But It’s Okay – Whitney Houston  (1999)

 


 “Morning toad.”

I grumbled, not into me and Ev’s normal formalities that we usual go through every morning. She took notice and sat beside me. She looked weary and scared for some reason but I brushed it off; I had my own problems to worry about at the moment.

Mom was already gone. She went to work an hour earlier now

“So, where’s hot, tall and dangerous at?”

Of course she was referring to K. “He’s sleeping.” I said, my voice still filled with sleep.

She stayed quiet for a while, but as expected, the questions continued. “So…did you two do anything last night?”

I looked at her with confusion, “Ev, he’s like nineteen years old, I’m illegal.”

“Yeah, so is Jacob, but you’re dating him.”

“Eat your cereal.” I retorted with an eye roll.

“Did he eat you?” she teased, wearing smirk right before the door bell rang.

“That must be Jacob.” I mumbled and got up.

She gasped. “Has Jacob eaten you yet?”

Rolling my eyes, I slid off of the bar stool at the kitchen’s counter and jogged to the door.

But when I opened it, the smile that sat at my face, ready to greet the visitor evaporated right there and then. A lump grew in my throat when our eyes connected. His dark eyes saw right through my, how mines shook with fear and shock.

That made him smirk. “Hello, Evan.” His short dark hair flowed in the breezy air and his pale skin lit up in beam of the awakening sun.

“M-Miko. Miko Jung?” I stammered, trying to fake a pleasant smile.

He didn’t say anything and let himself in. Standing behind him was his twin sister Amari. She was more pleasant and her smile was less vindictive than her older sibling by ten minutes. She greeted me warmly with a smile and hugged me loosely.

“Evan, you look really good. How have you been holding up?” she asked. Empathy was written all over her face.

They must have heard about my dad’s death. I nodded stoically. Amari was still watching me from the side.

I swallowed. “What are you guys doing here?” I asked.

Amari stepped forward into the home, closing the door behind her. Her hair still shined brightly with whatever mixture of chemicals she had put into it. The last time I had seen her she was a blonde. But then again, that was before we moved a few months ago. Right after summer. She still flaunted the fact that she was Korean with that tattoo on her left wrist in her native language. I never did ask what it meant when she got it last summer.

Summer.

The very thought of it made me wince and peak a look at Miko on the side of me, his arms folded so gingerly over his broad chest as he watched me squirm in his presence.

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