Samantha
I woke up on the couch to find Ashley typing away at her laptop on the couch opposite mine. It was evening already, I noticed, as I looked out at the windows above her head.
"Good evening," I mumbled. She looked up and smiled her signature warm smile.
"Ah, hello. You fell asleep immediately after lunch. I thought you might as well get the rest. It's much needed after all that travelling, isn't it?"
"Yep. Very."
"Are you okay now?' she asked without missing a beat.
"Yeah, I'm feeling better."
She smiled again. "Good to know," she said, before returning to her laptop. The clicks and taps began again. I settled into the couch and stared up at the pastel coloured ceiling.
The tapping suddenly stopped again.
"Hey, Samantha?"
I looked back at her. "Yeah?"
She cleared her throat. "Would you like to, um. . . you know, roam around town for a bit? I could show you around. I promise it'll be fun. We can eat something, too."
"I don't think I can walk all that long. I'm still tired. But dinner sounds nice."
"Dinner it is then!" she exclaimed. I looked up at her, smiling weakly.
"I'll get you some clothes," she said, walking into her room.
I closed my eyes and pictured Harley kissing my neck, her light brown hair falling over her shoulders and her arms holding me close, strong and safe. I felt myself relax.
"Samantha?" The dream got cut off at the voice and I stared up at Ashley, holding a blue dress out to me. "I hope this one's alright. I have some jackets, too."
"Thanks," I whispered, getting up to go change. "My parents are probably going to send in my bag tonight."
"That's good," she replied, walking into the kitchen.
***
"So, Samantha. Tell me about yourself," said Ashley, staring into my eyes. We were at a McDonald's close to the apartment and she was sitting across the table from me.
"You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, you know?"
"Why would you think I don't want to?"
"Because I'm a nobody. You've never seen me or talked to me before. I came out of nowhere. We're basically strangers. The only reason you know me is that I'm Perry's sister."
She stared at me for a bit and I got worried over whether that offended her or something.
I mean, why would it? It's only the truth.
But then she spoke again, undeterred and confident.
"Well, first of all, Perry talked about you almost everyday. Something or the other always reminded you of her. So, at this point, I know almost all of your six year old interests and habits and inclinations that you may or may not have carried with you till now. Second of all, you look so much like her I feel like I'm talking to Paris. A younger, happier Paris with sea-coloured eyes instead of the bright green. I almost feel like I'm thrown back into my high school years. And, third of all, she loved you so much, and that itself is reason enough for me to want to get to know you."
I breathed in, taking it all in.
"So. . .? What's it gonna be? You can either ignore me and wait till your parents get back or we can be friends. Good friends, if you'd like."
I smiled slowly.
"Fine."
She smiled back at that one-worded reply, the charming, warm one.
"What would you like to know?" I asked her, leaning back on the seat.
"Well, um. . . Do you have a boyfriend?"
I laughed. "Out of all the questions you could've asked me, that's what you go with?"
She laughed along. "My brain went blank when you put me on the spot like that. I didn't think you'd agree. Teens are usually more shy than that."
"Well, I'm not that shy."
"That's good. So. . . do you?" she asked, leaning forward, folding her arms on the table, her eyes never leaving mine.
"Well. . . " I thought about it. Should I tell her? It's not like she's in a position to judge.
"No. I don't."
That works, too, I guess. She asked about boyfriends after all.
"I see."
I hummed distractedly in response.
"So, how's school? What do you want to do after graduation?"
"School's alright. I'm thinking about taking up photography, journalism, that sort of thing. I like it."
"Perry did, too, you know."
"I'm aware. I saw it on her Facebook page."
"Ah. Stalking your sister's a bit much, don't you think?"
I chuckled, embarrassed. "I didn't have other options. I didn't know her mail ID. I didn't have her number. My parents wouldn't let me contact her in any way. And that day, when she came, she left before I could talk to her."
There was silence for a few moments.
"I see."
The food arrived and we began digging in, all in complete silence.
"Would you be able to tell me what exactly happened that day?" she said, staring at her knees, nervous, fidgeting.
"Um. . ."
"Your parents didn't tell me either. She never told me. Not even before she died, even though we stayed up all night talking," she chuckled sadly at that last part, her eyes tearful.
"I don't know if it's my place. . ."
"Your parents won't tell me. I know that for a fact. They could've today. They didn't. They're gonna visit the grave and leave. They don't owe me anything."
I shook my head. "You're wrong. They owe you an apology. They owe her an apology. And they're gonna have to live with the guilt of hurting the both of you for the rest of their lives."
She nodded hesitantly. And she then looked up at me.
"Please tell me, Samantha. I want to know what happened to her. I loved her."
I gulped and put down my burger.
"Um. . ."
"I know it might me uncomfortable for you, but you have to understand my position."
"I do. So, here goes. . . " I took a deep breath in preparation.
She stared at me expectantly.
"They. . . yelled at her. Called her names. Humiliated her in front of all our family members and friends and then kicked her out. Again." I felt hurt and anger rise inside of me at the painful memory. It had become increasingly harder to hold back tears.
She stared me, her face pale, her eyes hurt, sad. She was horrified, I realized.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
She sniffled. "I see," she replied quietly, her voice trembling just a little, before she went back to her food. I felt pained at her expression. I didn't know what to do.
Unable to say anything after that, we ate in silence and walked out into the cold night air. I thought the night was going to end like that. Cold, miserable, sad. But it didn't. Because that's when she spoke again, as we walked down a narrow, almost empty road to her apartment.
"Thanks for telling me, Samantha," she said. I nodded in reply. I could feel her gaze burning into the side of my head but I didn't know what else to do other than keep walking. That's when she stopped me, her long fingers wrapping around my arm.
She got in front me and we locked eyes, me staring up at her and her getting impossibly closer. I couldn't move. Her eyes were just that hypnotizing, her fragrance sweet and welcoming. She was staring at me in awe, exploring my features, like I was something so unique and unlike anything she'd ever seen. My eyes drifted to her red, soft, heart-shaped lips just for a few seconds and then back to her pale blue eyes, curious, confused. I soon felt my raging thoughts fading away, my insides warm.
The wind started blowing harder, caressing my face and blowing her long brown hair in all directions.
"You look so much like her," she whispered.
What the fuck is happening?
And that's when she pressed her lips against mine.
***
Hey!
Hope you liked this chapter! Lemme know what you think :)
Love,
queenred