Frostbitten Past

V I I I

She sat at the edge of her bed and forced herself to smile at her aunt. She hoped it looked dreamy, like she was a girl in love. "His name is Kyle, and he's very nice. The only boy who talks to me." All true, except she wasn't in love with him.

But, Kyle would be easy to fall in love with; he was devilishly good looking, kind to her, and didn't laugh at her like everyone else did. He was considerate. He was there when things went bad, and was there to comfort her.

But, despite his kindness, she wasn't in love with him. She didn't even have a crush on him. Yet.

If she closed her eyes, she could imagine being a normal girl, crushing on boys, dreaming about going on dates. But, that had never been her life, and boys had never taken the time to notice her before.

Before Kyle.

Her aunt's boyfriend narrowed his eyes. "Kyle?"

The way he confirmed Kyle's name struck a chord with Andorra, like he knew him. She was hesitant when she responded. "Yeah... that's his name. Although I don't think he particularly cares for me like that." She tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and looked down at the hot chocolate. "One can hope, right?"

When she glanced up at her aunt, the look of disatisfaction told Andorra that she either didn't care for her niece's chattering about boys, or she was upset at the still-full mug of hot chocolate.

Andorra betted both. But after the lemonade, she wasn't taking a single sip.

She feigned a look of innocence. "How did you two meet?"

Her aunt bristled, but laughed. It sounded harsh, like she was laughing through a painful experience. It wasn't pleasant to hear, and it made Andorra's blood go cold. Something was wrong about everything; the way her aunt was looking at her. The way her aunt was laughing. The way her aunt's boyfriend sounded like he knew Kyle.

"Adult romance won't do much for you, dear Andorra," her aunt said, right as Andorra's mother stepped behind them. Andorra saw the love for her aunt in her mother's eyes, and she swallowed the painful realization that despite her aunt's hatred for her, Andorra would never convince her own parents that her aunt was out to kill her.

"Mom," Andorra said, a little too loudly, "I'm not feeling well. Would you bring me up some medicine? I think I'm going to bed."

Her mother, ever doting, was quick to rush to her daughter and wrap her in a hug. It had always been like this; Andorra's mother was someone who was constantly worried about the wellbeing of her daughter. Someone who, if she could, would shield Andorra from harm.

"Sick, still? My goodness, you're never sick!" Then, a pause that was longer than usual. "Maybe moving here wasn't a good idea."

Andorra ducked under her mother's arms and jumped right into her bed, ignoring her aunt's hateful glare, which probably had to do with the fact that Andorra didn't drink any of the hot chocolate.

"I just need some rest," she urged, snuggling deep into her blankets, her eyes heavy. She didn't think she was tired until she was between her sheets, the weight of her blanket heavenly.

Her mother brushed a kiss on her forehead. "Rest up. If you're awake by dinner time, come down."

Her mother swept her aunt and her aunt's boyfriend out of the room and shut the door, leaving Andorra alone in the room. Sunlight streamed through her window, so Andorra pulled shut her curtains, which didn't do all that much, but helped.

She closed her eyes, letting the darkness drag her under, until she felt cold hands on her upper arms, shaking her. It made her alert, her eyes popping open, shocked when she saw Noah there.