Don't be afraid to Jump

Chapter Three

My father swings the door open, his rough but still close shaven beard scratches me as I pull him in for a hug. He waves at Sam from a distance and Sam nods in return. The smell, my goodness, I can literally taste the chicken and potatoes myself. My mother appears behind him, flashing a big grin, "Kaitlyn, you're home! How was school?" I beam at her,

"It was great Mum." I pull her in for a hug as well, smelling her brings back loads of memories, my jaw aches I'm smiling so much.

"You look so much older, and so happy, what did you exactly do at school today?" she looks nervously at me and Sam. Damn, he ruins everything.

"Oh, this is Sam from school, his parents are going through a divorce and he was wondering if he could crash here for a couple of weeks?"

"Goodness is it anybody we know, we should go see them, right Barry?" My mother says.

"You're absolutely right Danah." My father says reaching for the phone. Crap.

"No, you wouldn't know them, they live far out in the country, far, far out."

"Oh," They moan in unison. "Well, of course you can stay here. There's a guest bedroom upstairs and Kaitlyn will find you some old clothes to wear, if you've bought nothing." She says, patting him on the shoulder.

"Thanks Ma'am. Sir." He nods at them both, smiling his most charm inducing smile.

"It's Barry and Danah, to you young man." My father says, showing him towards the stairs. I push forward and rush up the stairs. "I'll help him settle in, see you at dinner." I call out from the top of the stairs.

                                                                                                           ~

Sam follows me into the guest bedroom, painted denim blue, with a sofa bed and a television. The wall shows the previous posters left there along with the blu-tack. He looks around at the room, "Not too shabby, Miss My-friends-parents-are-divorcing. You just want to make my life up as you go along don't you?" I stifle a hearty laugh. "First, I'm a deaf mute from France, then I'm a boy whose parents are divorcing and live so far out in the countryside that you don't even bother calling them." He slumps down on the worn sofa bed. I show him where the closet full of clothes is.

"Here are some of my brother's clothes, they should fit you." I point to the pile of jeans and jumpers and socks. He gives me an affirming glance and pats the seat next to him. "No." I mouth to him. I give him a tour, "Here is the DvD cupboard, the book one is over there." He rushes over to see the book cupboard. "Really!?! I didn't have you pegged down to be a reader."

"How, little you know of me, which is appropriate considering we met at an unfortunate crash this morning. Yes I own 453 books and I don't own a mobile phone. Happy?"

"Yeah, that'll do." I say making my way out of the door.

"Wait!" he cries, "You didn't tell me anything about you."

"There's not anything you, in particular, need to know." I pull the door behind me and laugh.

I make my way to my own bedroom. One I haven't seen in years. The bed is still not made, the pillows and clothes strewn across the floor. My bras on the bed knobs and door handles, my notebooks and paperbacks in a neat pile on me dirty desk where half-eaten tuna sandwiches resides, that's the only neat thing in my room. I lie on my bed taking in the smell, not a nice one, but a dirty, odorous smell. Just then I hear my mother call me for dinner. It's the first time I've really noticed how hungry I am. I follow the smell out of the door and walk straight into Sam. He's trying to peep into my room but I slam the door behind me. He moans and trumps down the stairs.

We both sit at the table as my parents bring in the dishes. I offer to help but they decline. I look at the tender chicken, stuffing and all. The potatoes covered in a crisp layer of seasoned skin, the gravy is beside it and the steamed vegetables next to that. Steam rises from it all and I begin to feel like a child again and blow the smoke around. Sam snorts and I shrug.  He's stupid anyway.  We don't really talk throughout dinner and the customary "How was your day’s” precede. For dessert there's Apple Crumble and sighs escape from my mouth when I shove the fork in full of crumble. Afterwards I tell my parents I'm tired and I go upstairs. Sam stays for a little while and I hear the hearty laughs, Sam's such a charmer. He comes up and I hear him humming as he takes a shower.

I can't sleep so a while later I get up and tidy, even hoovering, much to the annoyance of my parents. I get back into bed waaayy after midnight and lay there looking out at the stars of my skylight. I hear a soft knock on my door and I tell them to come in, I hope to see my mother's auburn hair or my father's beard but I don't I see a bed-raggled teenage boy in too-big pyjamas with a pillow at his side.
"I can't sleep, may I share with you?" He sounds like an 11 year old boy, dazed and sleepy.
"You may but do know this is not the sort of thing that happens normally. I don't meet strangers for a day and then let them sleep in my room."
He smiles at me... then chucks a pillow in my face. Sam's back. He makes a makeshift bed on the floor and sets himself up in it. We lie there for a while but give up all hopes of sleep so he sits up and turns to me. "I know nothing about you, how about short bio and 20 questions?"
"No, I'll let you ask five questions. Okay, I'm Kaitlyn, obviously. I'm 17 and I'm a Jumper." I answer.
"Music?"
"Folk."
"Ancestry?"
"Irish, English, way back."
"Film?"
"It's an old one, but I loved Interstellar."
"Book?"
"The Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard"
"Interesting choice, and finally, hidden talent?"
"A super good way of avoiding questions..." I smile at him, "You're turn."
"I'm Sam, Sam Woods. 17, Jumper."
"Okay. Favourite word?"
"Nyctophillia, lover of darkness, someone who finds comfort and release in the dark."
"Book?"
"1984"
"TV show?"
"Quantum Leap, ironically."
"Role model?"
"Kurt Cobain."
"Music?"
"Classic rock."
I lie back down in my bed. "I have one more question." Sam asks. I nod.
"What happened in that fire?"
I don't answer him. I just shake my head and shut my eyes. I fall asleep pretty fast.