7|
need someone to help you out of that?
MY HEART BEATS loudly in my chest, making it impossible to focus on anything else besides the rabid rhythm reverberating through my ears.
I'm not aware of how much time passes; the time seems to be completely frozen in my mind as I stare at my mother looking at us with a slightly confused expression. That is until Brad takes a quick step away from me, not wasting a single second to get to her side almost in the opposite corner of the room.
"Nothing at all, babe." Brad says softly as he touches her chin and tilts it up to get a direct look at her face," I just had a friendly father-daughter bonding moment with Aspen."
"Oh."
"You're home early." he says, the corners of his mouth curling up into a warm smile, knowing damn well what he's doing. I can see why my mother enjoys to be in his company so much; he's handsome, in his late twenties and if I didn't know any better I'd have most likely fallen for his sweet smiles, too.
"I finished my work so there wasn't really a point in staying there for much longer," she repays him with an equally wide smile, locking her fragile arms around his waist as she leans into him. It's hard to believe this is the same woman that had an episode few days ago.
The nauseating feeling swirling my insides only intensifies when Brad leans forward, placing his lips on hers as he backs her against the kitchen wall.
I immediately turn away, slipping past them to run up the stairs as fast as possible. Because as sad as it is, I know I don't stand a chance in my mother's eyes when Brad is around. He has her wrapped around his finger too tightly for her to see what is really going on.
Deciding to not delve any further on it, I open and close the door to my room swiftly before collapsing against the door frame, depleted. I let my ass touch the ground, and rest my head against the wooden surface, closing my eyes momentarily before I hear my bed creak.
Snapping my eyes open instantly, I whip my head in the direction, only to see Sarah laying on her stomach with her hands tucked under her chin, watching me curiously.
My first instinct is to straighten up, covering any signs of vulnerability prominent on my face. I know she's my sister but that doesn't mean she has to see me like this.
"Brad seems to be in a shitty mood today," she points out, making my heart swell with happiness for hearing her voice again.
Texts. That has been the only form of communication between the two of us in more than three weeks.
But the warm feeling doesn't linger for long. I can't help but narrow my eyes suspiciously at her, wondering why she's suddenly here. "Yeah." I manage to push out, my voice coming out as a whisper.
"Did --" she pauses, pressing her lips into a thin line, "he lash out on you again?"
Her sudden question surprises me since we have never talked about Brad and his poor way of managing his anger before. Sarah has always been different than me, we never fell into the category of identical twins when it came to our personalities but the one thing we always had in common is the fact that we both refuse to talk about something that makes us appear weak. Even if it's just in each other's eyes.
I know I should trust her enough to tell her, but this is not about trust. This is about showing weakness after putting an extreme effort into being untouchable. Which is exactly why I can't tell her. Not now, at least.
"No." I shake my head softly, pushing off the ground while I keep my gaze on her. Her eyes shift to the ground for a second, and she nods her head without saying anything in return.
I remain standing near the door. I'm not sure where we're standing as sisters at the moment, and I'm not sure what to do about it either. "Why are you here, Sarah?"
Abruptly, she opens her mouth, almost as if she was gasping for air, but nothing comes out. Then, she repeats the action again. "I-- I just wanted to check on you, Aspen," she clears her throat nervously, sitting up on the bed. "I know I haven't been around for a while and I wanted to say. . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away when you tried to talk some sense into me. That was a really shitty thing of me to do."
Slowly, I erase the distance between us, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. "It's okay," I touch her shoulder gently. Her apology seems to be generous, and who am I to ignore it? "You're forgiven."
"No, it's not okay," she shakes her head adamantly as she reaches to wipe away the tear rolling down her cheek, "I should've listened to you. I don't know what I was thinking chasing down Timothy Brenton like that."
Her remark about Timothy picks my curiosity up a little, "What happened between you and Timothy anyway?"
A little crease appears between her brows and she licks her lips slowly. "Doesn't matter anymore. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did when you warned me about him. He's a dick, that's for sure."
I laugh a little at the tone of her voice and she rests her head on my shoulder. My body stiffens for a split second but gladly, she doesn't notice. "I'm really, really sorry, Aspen. Do you think we could start over?"
Something keeps buzzing.
Over and over.
It just won't stop.
Why doesn't it stop?
Agitated, I open one of my eyes lazily, reaching across my bed to subdue the terrible sound not allowing me to continue my nap peacefully.
But when I look at the screen and see it's an unknown number, my curiosity wins over, and before I fully get a grasp of myself, I'm already asking, "Hello?"
"Hey, Aspen!" is the answer that comes immediately, and even in my sleepy state, I recognize it's Cassidy. She (why is she even calling me?) chirps a little too enthusiastically for my taste, causing me to flinch at the intensity of her voice. "What are you up to?"
"Nothing, actually." I respond warily, thrown-off by her call. "How did you get my number?"
A high-pitched giggle echoes through the line, "You're funny. Don't you know that Cassidy Leeroy has a perfect access to everything?"
The way she says it is not terrifying, but it still makes me pause, the terror of how true her statement actually might be running right through me. "Uhmm, yeah. I guess. . ." I draw out dubiously, not knowing what else to say.
"Fine," she clicks her tongue, causing the sound to echo in my ear, "now that you're aware of that undoubtedly useful information, you should move your pretty ass and get ready because we're going shopping."
"What?" I huff out, even more confused. So this is why she's calling me? "I'm not going anywhere, it's five already, and I just woke up from a nap. I don't --"
"No, Aspen," Cassidy cuts me off before I get the chance to finish my trail of thought, "we are going shopping. I don't have a single outfit that would be fitting enough for Tarryn's party tomorrow night. I need you. Friends help each other, you know?"
An exasperated sigh escapes my lips as I try to think of a good excuse. We are not exactly the definition of friends. Heck, I've barely known her for twenty hours. Well, not known, because I've seen her in the cafeteria, or the school hallways, but we have never talked to each other before. If anything, Sarah was the one always pining after their attention, and for all I know she still could be. I decide to go with, "I just woke up from my nap, Cassidy," hoping it will get her to bugger off.
"You already said that," she giggles again, apparently clueless to my attempts. "That's not enough for me, you should have given me a better excuse." Yeah, apparently I should've.
"I--"
"Please no arguing, Aspen. A girl needs her shopping partner. I'll be at your house in ten minutes, so you better hurry up."
The line goes dead with one last giggle vibrating from her throat before I can respond, leaving me sitting wrapped up in the warmth of the fluffy blanket, while trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.
"No. No. No."
I'm shaking my head adamantly, the desperation to dig the heels of my Vans into the polished floor growing bigger and stronger as I try to escape the tight grip Cassidy has on my forearm. "I'm not going in there."
This is the last place I want to be. And honestly, I wouldn't even be here if Cassidy didn't honk her car ten times once she arrived to my house and found out I was not anywhere near waiting on her. I wasn't about to comply and figured she would just leave if I ignored her long enough, but I guess a girl like Cassidy can't take a hint at most times.
I wouldn't care about any of that, even though I really want to know what happened between Sarah and Timothy that made my sister the way she is now, and also what happened to Courtney Chapel that caused her to suddenly drop out of school at the end of last school year, but the thing that really forced me to run down the stairs and get into Cassidy's red cabriolet was Brad's fuming yelling, "Go tell whoever the fuck is honking like a stupid fuck outside to fuck off before I do!". Yeah, I'm citing him on that one.
"Oh, come on, Aspen." Cassidy tugs on my arm again with a much bigger force this time, jerking me out of my thoughts, all while ignoring all the weird stares people are sending in our direction. "I'm not letting you walk out of here unless you try this one on."
"Cassidy," I lower my voice to minify the disapproving look coming from the woman curiously watching us from across the store, "I already agreed to come shopping with you despite the fact that I hate shopping with passion. There's no way in hell I'm going to try that on. What the heck even is that thing?" Jeez, why does she have to be so pushy and adamant? What does it matter if I try this . . . strappy thing on or not?
"It's a baby-doll slip," the corners of her mouth curl up with amusement, and for a second, I'm pretty sure she's making fun of me, "you have never bought one?"
"No. I'm perfectly comfortable with sleeping in a baggy shirt from the men clothing section." I eye the see-through slip she's holding in her tiny hands once more. "I don't get how can someone find these comfortable."
"They are comfortable, Aspen." She rolls her eyes at my remark, "Victoria's Secret would never sell something that isn't. Besides, there are certain standards you have to fulfill around Jade's group, which means that you can't show up in a washed-out man's shirt at Tarryn's sleepover party. Those bitches would cast you out sooner than you'd get the chance to do as much as blink."
"Sleepover?" I question her, surprised, deciding to keep from telling her I'm not even remotely interested in going somewhere near Jade Donnovan and her privileged little group. "I thought those were considered pathetic for the majority of seniors at Highland."
"Maybe," she draws out slowly, deliberately, "but Tarryn's sleepovers are far away from the usual ones. You'll see for yourself tomorrow. Now get your ass in there and try it on so we can finally go get some food."
She pushes the hangers into my hands and shoves my body forward before the gray curtain closes behind me. The urge to argue further is pushing me toward pulling the curtain open but for once, I swallow my stubbornness, and decide against it. Somehow, I know it would be pointless anyway, because I know Cassidy is not going to let me walk out of here before getting what she wants. Maybe I should be scared.
There's no point in dragging it out, so removing my shirt and jean shorts quickly, I pull the emerald green slip over my head without making an attempt to unzip the back completely. I can't afford to be losing any more time -- I'm pretty sure Brad is going to be pissed off at me already anyway for running off without asking him first, but I'm almost an adult and he's not my father.
I take a brief glance at myself, not allowing my eyes to linger on the fading bruises on my arm for too long before I begin slipping the baby-doll off of me. It doesn't look bad on me, but my boobs are a bit too pushed up and together, and I don't feel comfortable in something this see-through.
My plans, however, come to an unexpected halt when the fabric refuses to move beyond my shoulders.
Hell. This is just my luck.
"Cassidy?" I call out with a frustrated groan, few failed attempts later,"Could you come here for a second?" Then I drop my arms to my sides, letting the fabric slide (almost) back into its original place before leaning down to pick up the rest of the clothing scattered across the carpeted floor.
The curtain sways a little, indicating Cassidy's entrance and I straighten up with relief. Though, it doesn't last very long when my eyes meet the reflection of the person behind me.
"Hey, angel," a smug smile plasters across Timothy's handsome features as he leans against the cabin wall and crosses his arms in front of his chest, "need someone to help you out of that?"
•
please don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed this chapter! i promise there's going to be more of the juicy stuff in the next chap, haha.
be sure to check out @trouhbled for this awesome aesthetics and if you decide to play around a little and make one you can send it to my e-mail (in the bio). now go and give her some love, haha.
Q: personal thoughts on Sarah? What do you think happened between her and Timothy?
also, we've been ranking as 155 in short story two days ago! how freaking awesome is that? i can't even tell you how happy i was when i saw it. thank you all so much for the support you're giving this book.♡