—September 8th—
It was late in the afternoon, Rowan's favorite time of the day. This was the time of the day when traffic wasn't as loud and a warm orange-yellow light shone through her motel room window. It was also the time of the day when she would just lay on her bed, basking in the sunlight; her head filled with plans for the next day. She felt warm and at ease for the first time in a while, that was until Michael called.
Unlike most people she knew, she wasn't very fond of her phone, only using it for limited calls. So when it rang she was both bewildered and confused. She was the one who usually called people, and by people, she meant Drew and her mother. Drew would call her too, but he only called at night to check if she was safe at home. A part of her was cautious, not recognizing the number meant she shouldn't pick up, but another part of her was curious. Even if it was a wrong number she could only imagine the possibilities of who was on the other side of the line. So she gave in to her curiosity and quickly snapped up her phone.
"Hello?" She said, trying to remain calm.
"Hey, Rowan this is Michael." Michael? She knew many Michaels from high school, but none that would call. It took her a while to remember the name. Then the image of a mint haired boy popped into her head.
"Oh, Drew's roommate?" He probably got her number from him.
"Yeah." Rowan silently smiled to herself in pride of getting it right. "So look Rowan, there are somethings that me and my friends need to talk to you about. Is it alright if we meet up?" Meet up? Rowan had seen several movies where the female protagonist met up with someone she only met once and they usually didn't result in a joyful experience. And who were his friends that he spoke of? Were they people like Drew or were they people who sharpened knives as a hobby?
"Rowan?" Michael checked to see if she was still on the line.
"Um, well... You see my car is towed... And... Yeah..." She stuttered to find an excuse. Michael, on the other side of the phone, didn't see this as a problem.
"Oh... Can we come to your place instead? If that's alright?" He asked, trying to find a solution.
"Can I ask what this is about first?" Rowan stammered.
"I can't tell you the details yet until my friends meet you, but to put it briefly: it's about the incident. You heard a little of it from Drew, but there's more and we feel like you can help." Michael tried to sound vague, but not too vague that she would think that he was lying.
"Oh." Was all Rowan could manage. Her curiosity swirled around in her head again. There were pieces to this story that she knew, but so many she didn't. But the cautious part of her brain kept knocking at her telling her to stay away. "These friends... Are they also related to the accident?" She decided to keep her caution and curiosity at ease by getting a few more details.
"Well... Yes, their names are Ashton and Calum. And I think that you should meet them and that they should meet you." Michael told her. "I'm sure that you have questions, and so do we, but both us and you should also have answers. So how 'bout it?"
"Okay." Rowan nibbled at her bottom lip, it sounded fine. And if anything went wrong she was confident enough in her ability to run away. "You can come in around an hour," she said, scanning her room and estimating how long it would take to clean up.
"Sounds good, see you." And with that Michael hung up.
Rowan clenched her fists and nodded to herself, convincing herself that this wasn't a terrible decision. And to bring her mind off of the possible consequences, she began to tidy up her room. She hadn't done it in a while. And after she cleaned up the laundry, she realized her room was rather empty. She didn't own many personal things, mostly clothes and a few accessories so no one figures out the secret she's kept from her high school friends and work colleagues. It wasn't a terrible secret, but it wasn't a small secret either.
The fact that her famous and wealthy mother, who does photoshoots and morning show appearances, tells the world she's a single mother who is unable to reproduce. Her mother explained it to her as a way to boost her image of a strong, independent woman and so that she could be an esteemed psychologist quickly. And Rowan accepted it under the condition to let her live freely without her mother judging her career choices. When explained on paper, it makes the two of them seem very distant. But Rowan doesn't regret it and neither does her mother. They still call each other when they have to, but they don't hold familial bonds or responsibility for each other.
Which is why Rowan was a poor cashier girl at a small, on the corner patisserie. And her mother is a highly esteemed psychologist on magazine covers in America. Rowan didn't live the glorious, plane to plane life her mother wished she had. And her mother didn't live the settled, homemaker life Rowan wished she had. Those were their differences and both of them accepted it.
Whenever Rowan thought about it more, she starts to wonder what if she ends up like that with her child. And she thus began a slow spiral of overthinking and depression that would only grow in her mind. But today her thinking was interrupted by a loud shout. Her eyes shot towards the clock and she realized her hour has passed. And she prayed that Michael and his friends were late, and it wasn't them yelling.
She cracked her door open, letting a bit of the musty hotel room air out. She opened it wider, not seeing where the noise came from until she saw a flash of bright green. Michael was trying to break up a fight between two guys. One with sandy-colored curls and the other with jet black hair. Michael tried to maneuver his way between the two, eventually grabbing both of their collars and separating them. She could only hear bits of what they were shouting about, but louder than their shouts was the pounding of her heart. Beating harder with anxiety. She didn't even realize the breeze blowing her door completely open revealing herself.
The three boys looked like they managed to get over their dispute, but the curly-haired boy caressed his cheek and continued glaring at the dark-haired boy. And the dark-haired boy rubbed his shoulder, he also had a thick scar reaching from his left eye down to his neck. But it was obvious the scar was from a while ago and not from the fight. Rowan then saw Michael say something again while pointing at the stairs. And at that moment the sandy-haired boy looked straight at Rowan and the girl almost fell back in surprise. It was the drunk boy who called her Riley.
She was starting to question everything more and more and she was no longer scared, she was determined. Because if one thing was for sure, it's that these people had the answers she needed.
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a/n: sorry about the late update, going to try to update next week to make up for it. and again thank you for the reads and votes, i'd love to hear your comments :)