𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯!
Tragedy can happen to anyone, anytime and anywhere, and the saddest part about that truth is...
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Chapter Eighteen: Party Time Sophia Crawford
“I should have brought a jacket.” I rub my hands up and down my arms, shivering in Ana’s car seat. “It’s freezing!”
“The rain has been falling nonstop since yesterday night, though.” Ana says, looking out her car window at the rain pitter-pattering against it. “And winter is in a few weeks. I could feel the nip in the air for a few days now.”
I nod.
She was right. There has been a nip in the air for a few days now, and surprisingly it has nothing to do with the fact that River has been giving me the cold shoulder since yesterday. It surprised me that he was at school today, but he wasn’t present at all. He was like a ghost roaming the halls.
If the rumours about him are true, about him being abused by his dad, then I think I have a better understanding now more than I ever had about him—to why he is the way he is: cold and calloused. I would also understand why he got that panic in the bathroom the other day too, and why he used the mirror as a punching bag, but that’s only if the rumours are true. No one knows if the rumours are true or not, but if the rumours were true, I can’t imagine what River must have gone through with his father, what he must have endured without telling a single soul what happened to him.
“But your dress is absolutely adorable. A jacket would have ruined it.”
I smile thankfully at her, looking down at the dress I chose for today.
It was a plain black, spaghetti-strapped backless dress, and the dress was quite long. It was long enough to cover the scar I had on my leg and it was warm enough to shield me from the cold weather we started to have the past couple of days, except for the fact that the dress was backless, and it had spaghetti straps—I didn’t have a jacket I could use to cover my bare shoulders, but I figured that the party would warm me up, it was just the journey in Ana’s car that has been quite cold, making me shiver in my seat.
The rain that has been falling down hard hasn’t exactly been helping, either.
“Thank you for picking me up, though.” I tell her. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course!” She returns the smile and taps her painted nails against the steering wheel as she drove. “It’s the least I could do seeing that your grandmother made one delicious plate of spaghetti and meatballs yesterday.” She licks her lips mindlessly, nearly ruining her lipstick in the process. “I mean, I love my grandmother to bits, but she has never made spaghetti and meatballs that good before. And she’s Italian.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “She loves you already. My grandmother.”
“And I love her so much already too.” Ana says. “Since we moved to America, I haven’t really had the chance to see my grandmother a lot, only in summer. Meeting your grandmother made me miss mine so much.”
