Salt

The Girl Who Cried Wolf

The day droned on like no other, I spent my time between texting my friends and cleaning out my room. It wasn't exactly what I'd call productive, but I had to do something until Zoey would come home. To say I had a few questions for her wouldn't half cover it.

        For starters, with everything that had happened since I woke up, it made me think the worst. Then, the last night that mom and I fought, I discovered she was on a suspicious call – how could I possibly let that go? And then, of course, there was the night she got high, I hadn't forgotten.

        I'd seen my sister while she was soaring plenty of times, but to walk in on her completely dazed and engaging in sex with not just one person, but two... it was enough to make me see I'd had enough.

        She was fifteen years old, not five, she knew what she was doing at this point. She'd had months on end to redeem herself, I wasn't going to allow this to go on any further. Because, at the end of the day, she was hurting more than just a handful of brain cells.

        I was emptying out some old jewelry, tossing all of it my black bag when I heard the crinkling of something so old I'd previously believed it was missing. My hands catching onto the dry macaroni and pasta, my instinctive reaction was to tie it around my neck and claim how much I loved it.

        Zoey made it for me when she was fresh out kindergarten, saying with her cute little lisp that the teachers asked she design it for someone she loved, and she chose me, because I told her the monsters under her bed only wanted to keep her safe, they'd thought of her as a friend.

        My hand hovered over the plastic bag, debating.

        The loud bang of the front door alerted me to her arrival, so I dropped everything and descended the staircase, meeting her hard, tired eyes at the bottom.

        She dumped her bag and coat, like she always did, ready to face both our parents. However, I fully believed they could wait.

        I went to speak, but she caught me off early by facing the door again, a look on her face I hadn't seen for a long time.

        "Ciara followed me home," Just those words halted me, instead of screaming at my sister, my hand clasped around hers by its own accord. "I don't know what she wants. The way she stared at me all day... it's like she could eat me."

        Telling her to go to her room, I opened the door and, sure enough, Ciara was making her way up the porch steps, handbag smacking her all the way.

        Like myself, Zoey had been the target of numerous pranks and harassment by the Ice Queen, although with them being the same age, I'd somewhat gathered she received the back of them first.

        "I want you to leave her alone," I held her gaze for long as I could before I stepped outside. I didn't want her crossing the threshold.

        She sniffed, head low.

        "I had to get your attention somehow," When my breath hitched, she barely noticed and carried on talking. "I saw the board, you know, the one you and Ambrose are working on. I saw myself on it. I know you secretly wish it were me, but it wasn't... you've got it all wrong. I can help, I can, I–"

        The scene before me wasn't something I was used to. To see an Ice Queen melt, exposed to the naked flame, and become a puddle in front of me – it definitely made my head stop. All thought, all clue of anything and everything she was about to say.

        For another thing, she refused to meet my eyes. Ciara had never stepped down on a showdown.

        I could feel her words, the way in which she quivered. About only one thing was I certain: