Redemption

UNTIL IT CAME CLOSE TO BURNING DOWN

I watched Joey fly into the kitchen, smoke chasing her body as she rushed for the box fans in the living room. If anybody were to walk inside, we'd be found guilty of almost burning the kitchen down. Not even twenty seconds ago, the red-headed girl announced Fletcher and the boys were on their way. Since opening the windows hadn't been enough nor was throwing away the pan, she raced to find anything that'd clear the smoke. The girl who considered herself my best friend already said she improved from the last time she tried cooking, but if that's the case, I'm happy it's taken so long to meet.

The October winds drifted through the open windows, carrying the sheer white curtains far enough away until they struggled to break free from the gold curtain rods. I didn't realize how beautiful their kitchen was until it came close to being burnt down. Peeking down from the upstairs landing, I could see all of it. Windows wrapped the room. Eight of them to be exact. Below those windows were countertops that ran into a stove. The white paint had bee enough to brighten the place, but Joey's flower arrangements and bright décor along with natural lighting made everything look magical.

I wanted to admire the beauty of the natural wood, but male voices made my eyes snap up to the glass door to find Fletcher walking up the driveway. My eyes widened as Joey swept the crumbs into the trashcan. I slipped onto a seat at the island and watched as Fletcher walked inside with his eyebrows raised. He's already being skeptical. I can see it in the way his eyes are shifting back and forth between the fans and open windows. He knows something happened, but the way he looks at me makes me worried that he's still contemplating last night. That he doesn't care about the house being burnt down as much as he cares about what happened between me and his friend. Except this doesn't help.

I directed my gaze to Joey who kept mouthing words in my direction, but I couldn't read lips.

The boy from last night stepped through the backdoor. He immediately found me as Fletcher started questioning Joey.

"What did you two do today?"

"Oh my god. We had so much fun," Joey slipped onto the chair beside me. "We went through the closet. We decorated Sawyer's room."

I tried paying attention to the girl as I nodded my head in agreement, but the tattooed boy was leaning forward on the kitchen island. Those hazel eyes watching me intently as he cracked open the water bottle he pulled from the fridge. The stranger who left a small note at my door never broke eye contact. He continued studying me as if he knew mine and Joey's secret.

"Why was there a pan in the trashcan?"

Fletcher dropped the blackened pan on the counter and the evidence was enough. We were caught.

"We were going through the cabinets," Joey choked out. "Why would we want to keep such an old and dirty pan?"

"Sawyer," Fletcher turned to me. "Did she try cooking?"

I started shaking my head and still I said, "yes."

"Girl! You're supposed to be on my side," Joey cried out. "What happened to denying everything?"

"I can't read lips."

"Don't worry," she tapped my shoulder. "We'll work on that."

"Well, if everyone's hungry, let's go out."

Joey clapped her hands, excited my brother suggested that instead of lecturing her. No one said another word as I moved back toward the stairs. I didn't want to go. It's not like I'm apart of their group. So, I dropped onto my mattress and stared at the ceiling as if it'd start moving, and the voices downstairs slowly got quieter as the backdoor shut.

It's not that I wasn't hungry, but I didn't want to be a burden. I don't make money, and I don't want to leave. Leaving meant somebody in public would recognize me, and although I'd been an adult, I feared what would happen if my dad found me.

So, I chose to sift through the stuff Joey bought me to ignore the pain in my ribs and grumbling in my stomach.

I experimented with the fake candles, flicking them on and off. I even strung the vine plant she left me down in the kitchen along the walls with hooks. Beyond the clothes, I discovered the books she left. I began stacking them on the wooden dresser in front of my bed.

Within the hour, I found myself rested on the wicker chair between my floor to ceiling windows, reading about a woman who would do anything to save her city, and I might've discovered something about myself. When the world doesn't feel right, I can slip into a new one by opening the pages of a book. It's somewhere I want to get lost in forever.

"What're you reading?"

The book flew from my hands as I stared at the grinning hazel-eyed boy leaning in my doorway.

"I didn't mean to scare you."

He stepped forward, his eyes roaming the bedroom. I wasn't sure if he liked the new decorations, but he didn't seem to care too much about them as he redirected his eyes onto me.

"I'm sorry about last night," he pointed toward the seat beside me. "Mind if I come in?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I know he wanted an answer, but I didn't know what to say to him, and as he approached me to sit down, I felt my heart thrumming against my ribs.

"It looks nice in here."

I fiddled with the blanket on my lap. "Thanks."

His head snapped to me, the look of surprise evident on his face at the sound of my voice.

"I'm really sorry about last night."

"Me too."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he leaned back on the chair. "You know – I haven't learned your real name yet."

"It's Sawyer."

"Sawyer Price," he hummed. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."

I looked at where he sat. I wasn't a pretty girl. Nothing about me said pretty. I had bruises on my face. Scars on my skin. That wasn't pretty – it was tragic. But for some reason, my toes curled, and my body flushed with heat at his words.

"What's your name?"

I watched the space between his eyebrows collapse. "I wish you spoke more."

"Sorry."

The left corner of his mouth tugged upward. "Nothing to be sorry for, pretty girl. I'm Carter, by the way."

"Carter," I breathed out, liking the way his tongue rolled off my tongue.

He wet his bottom lip before his teeth grazed over the soft skin. "Yeah."

"I like your name."

His eyes roamed my face. "Ditto."