Brenda wanted a normal school year. Instead her mom died.
Salma needed space from her sister and terrible ex. Or else she'd lose her mind.
Delilah didn't think she'd have any more problems after moving far from her hometown. That was until she becam...
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❝He smiles at me, and I am suddenly seventeen again - the year I realize that love doesn't follow the rules, the year I understood that nothing is worth having so much as something unattainable.❞
― My Sister's Keeper
🗝DELILAH🗝
"Why are you standing around?" Wyatt's lips quirked into a smile. "Do you wanna get caught?"
Sirens, wailing from all directions, filled the air.
I stood there frozen until he interlocked our fingers together and hurried us with the rest of the frazzled and drunken masses. The pathway to the door for the gate was so narrow that both Wyatt and I shoved our way through and out into a field directly connected to the house. We didn't stop running at that point though.
While following the herd—in a sense—we cut through the field. But right when we were half way in to the field, Wyatt tugged on my arm and made us turn right, which would take us back toward the streets leading to the residential portion of the neighborhood. Whereas everyone else was heading much farther away from the houses.
"W-where are we going?" I stammered. "Shouldn't we keep going where they're going?"
He shook his head, "No, I know a short cut."
I simply nodded and followed after him, holding on to his hand as though my life depended on it. I pushed myself forward, desperately trying to catch up with Wyatt. He had extremely long legs and a wider stride than I did. My heart skidded as he drifted his eyes at me while we ran, smiling as though we shared a secret no one but us knew about.
By the time we had reached the road, it nearly took every muscle in me not to pressed both of my palms against my thighs and wheeze for a breath of air. Instead of facing myself with that embarrassment, I huffed and puffed until I could catch my breath.
Letting go of the hand he had held, I ran a hand through my unruly hair and collected my thoughts on what just happened. Turning to Wyatt, I flashed a feebly smile and said, "Thanks for...getting me out of the way."
"No problem. You were standing there like a deer caught in the headlights," he snickered to himself, "I was happy to help."
My mouth popped, but was quickly closed when another set of sirens began to sail into the night. My eyes scanned the street we had ended up on and spotted the police cruiser, coming our way.
"Shit," I cursed. "We need to —"
Wyatt raised his hand, "No, there's no need in that. Just act like we're supposed to be here."
What did that even mean? I thought to myself and narrowed my eyes at him. Why was he so calm and sure of himself? He had no clue what the cop was going to say, but neither did I.
