"We fought an uphill battle. One we had no hope of winning."
~~~
Felicity-Flick as most call her-Carter, has learned a thing or two in her 12 years of life. How to deal with drunk parents without waking the neighbors, how to smoke a cigarette withou...
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"Are you just gonna hide in here until they leave?" Jackson asked with a sympathetic smile.
I nodded. "That, or I'm gonna be out with you. No interaction is the goal here." It had been over two hours since they arrived at the apartment. I hadn't left my room once. I refused to run the risk of crashing into one of them when I stepped outside my bedroom door. I had no clue what they were doing. And honestly, I couldn't care less.
The clock was nearing 10 PM.
"Okay Flicky, that's fine with me." Jackson stuck his tongue out as he used the stupid nickname he knew I hated.
"Call me that one more time and I'll deck you." I threatened half heartedly. We both knew there was no chance of me punching him. I seem tough, but honestly, violence is not my thing by a long shot. When I was little, I would break down in tears every time one of my friends or brothers hurt one another. There's something blood that makes me queasy.
"Now now, my sour little lemon, let's not get violet." While I would never straight up punch Jackson, I had no qualms about landing a solid kick to his shins. Which is exactly what I did, making him yelp like a baby duck. "Ow," He whined. "That was uncalled for." I rolled my eyes.
"Can we leave soon?" I asked, standing up from my bed.
He sighed and nodded. "Sure. Wanna go to-"
"I swear to god, Jackson, if you say Wally's I'll leave you here."
He shrugged. "Just a suggestion."
"Let's go find Amber. Maybe she has somewhere better to go than the roof." I pulled on my Rolling Stones sweatshirt and slid a belt through the loops on my ripped jeans. "But really, I just need to smoke a cigarette and be far away from here."
Jackson hummed, pulling on the Vans he had left by my door. "I hear ya." When I opened my bedroom door for the first time in almost three hours now, I was immediately hit with the smell of pizza. Hopefully that meant they were eating and wouldn't notice me and Jackson leaving. But if they did, so be it. I didn't care either way.
"Ready Flick?" I gave a curt nod and allowed him to walk out first.
"Wait, let me grab a gatorade before we leave." I said as we walked down the hall.
"Why?"
I shrugged. "Amber might be more willing to come with us if I give her some incentive in the form of a sugary drink." I walked into the kitchen, and was not the least bit surprised, if quite annoyed, to find the three stooges sitting at the kitchen table stuffing their faces with pizza.
"Hi Felicity." Wren smiled warmly, and I felt heartless not reciprocating. He really was a ray of sunshine. A promise breaking, piece of shit brother, and a ray of goddamn sunshine.
"Hey," I muttered under my breath.
"Where are you going?" Emil asked, probably noticing the backpack that hung off my shoulder and the shoes me and Jackson wore. I rolled my eyes, bending down to look for what I wanted in the fridge.
