Chapter Three

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CHAPTER THREE:

It’s been 4 days since the night in Harry’s room and today was the day I was being discharged. I haven’t tried to visit Harry again, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’ve mainly just stayed in my room, my mind going over and over what happened, the angry faces, the hateful words, all of it. I even found myself thinking about Louis. It was like some stranger had inhabited my body. It wasn’t like me to dwell over boys, especially ones I hardly knew. I had almost killed one and the other most likely wanted to kill me. I’ve never believed in coincidences, but then again, 8 days ago, I believed in a lot of things I wasn’t sure about anymore.  

My mom had been visiting every day, telling me about the new shipment of Geraniums that had arrived at the store. Five years ago, when my dad got his big promotion, my mom had opened a floral shop to keep herself busy while he was away on long business trips. It’s a tiny shop that usually sees a handful of the same faces every day, but it thrives. I had just finished packing up my things when I heard the door open.

“I’m almost ready. Did Aaron say he was coming home tomorrow?” I was expecting it to be by mom, but the voice that greeted me was deeper, rougher.

“Are we referring to me in the third person now? It’s about time.” I spin around, smiling like an idiot, and look into the face of my older brother, Aaron.

“You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow.” I say, looking him up and down. I hadn’t seen him in ages. He shrugs and motions behind him with his thumb.

“Oh, I’ll just leave then.” He steps back a few inches.

“Don’t you dare!” I squeal, limping over to him, throwing my arms around his neck. He laughs and hugs my waist, picking me up off of the floor.  I laugh as he spins me around, feeling a weight lift off of my chest and my shoulders relaxing. Aaron was the only person that I felt like myself around, except for my best friend Darcie, but even that was different. Aaron had a way of understanding things even when there was nothing to understand, and I was so relieved he was home. He sets me down gently and crosses to sit on the bed. He’s wearing faded jeans and a thin white long sleeve shirt rolled up to his elbows. His skin is dark from the sun and his short blonde hair was lighter. Looks like California was treating him well. He was supposed to be going to Southern California University but he dropped out last semester. My parents didn’t know and he wasn’t planning on telling them any time soon. He made sure to visit on every holiday and make the age old excuses, swamped with tests, papers and work, when he couldn’t. He played his part well, he even fooled me from time to time.

“What are you standing there for? C’mon,” He said, tossing my bag on the floor and patting the bed next to him, “fill me in.” I sit down next to him, tucking my right leg under me, my left leg dangling awkwardly below me.

“I hit someone.” I say simply, a small knot forming in my stomach. He waits for me to continue, and when I don’t, he glares at me, his brown eyes turning into slits.

“And?” He says forcefully, trying to get me to elaborate.

“And he almost died. End of story.” I pick at a loose thread on my jeans, hoping he’ll leave it at that, I’m almost positive my mom told him everything over the phone anyway.

“Rae, you know I hate it when you’re vague.” He half speaks, half sings, shaking my shoulder. I swat his hand away and roll my eyes.

“I’m sure mom has already told you everything.” He nods.

“But, I want to hear it from you.” I look into his angular face. We look nothing alike, it still surprises me that we’re related. I suck in a big gulp of air and let it out slowly, planning on giving him the somewhat condensed version, making sure to leave out the wrist grabbing part.

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