Sophie POV:
Sometimes I wonder whether my parents truly love each other or if they just stay together because it's easier that way. I haven't seen them kiss or hug or show any affection towards each other in years, in fact I don't ever really remember anything of the sort. Truth be told though, I used to wonder if they were capable of love. Maybe I still do. With the look of raw, vehement disgust on my mother's face as she stared unabashedly at me and Keefe on the couch, I had reason to believe that. No one could love someone and look at them like that.
"Mom it's-" I started before she turned on her heels and walked right back out the door, shutting it firmly behind her.
I gaped for a few seconds longer at the door, waiting to see if she would come back, not believing what had just happened. Of course I knew she wouldn't. I knew my mother. And she was the type to walk right out the door the moment something wasn't exactly where it should be until it was put back in place.
My eyes turned to Keefe. Where was his place though? I knew it wasn't at home, with a sadistic mom, or at school where he never seemed to be able to focus and it was definitely not at my house. "Was that your mom?" He asked softly.
I sank down onto the ground, cradling my head into my hands. "It doesn't matter. I should take you and Abigail home."
"Why?" He challenged. "What's it matter if your mom knows I'm crashing here? It's just for the rest of the night."
I rose to my feet. "It just does."
"So I tell you all about my brutal past and you can't even disclose whether that woman is your mother, much less why it matters to her that I'm here?!" Keefe pressed, his voice growing sharper.
When I didn't answer, he laughed harshly. "Oh, it can't be that bad. Everyone knows that everything about your family is absolutely perfect."
My blood boiled. I was past one in the morning. I was exhausted and not in the mood for Keefe's stupid, aggravating assumptions.
"You," I hissed, moving forwards to jab a finger into his chest. "Know nothing about my family. And just because you have it rough, doesn't mean that you have the right to diminish other people's pain!"
Keefe's eyes glinted back at me, and not in a gleeful way. They had darkened- seemed almost silver now, as shining and as hard as metal, which seemed fitting. "You're right. I don't. Others should do it themselves; be grateful for how insignificant their problems are compared to some people in the world."
I knew who he was implying. Maybe he was right. Either way, I was stubborn. And I wasn't budging. "Well it's a good thing that those lucky people are still there to help the people in need, even if they don't always appreciate it."
Keefe glared at me. "Or maybe they appreciate it more than they should."
All the double meanings and metaphors were confusing me and what we were talking about, so I was happy when he stood from the couch. "But don't you worry your pretty little head. Me and my sister are going to leave you be- stay out of your way."
He strode up the stairs, coming down a minute later holding the hand of a very sleepy-looking Abby. He paused only once on his way out of the door to grab his backpack.
I ran out after him. "I can still give you a ride!"
Rain still fell in heavy sheets.
But this time, not even Abby agreed to my offer. Instead, they walked away, heads ducked in the rain until I couldn't make out their silhouettes through mother nature's tears.
I wonder what she was crying about.
Probably something that would even make Keefe's hardships look puny.
I'll take suggestions for the story- just leave a comment!
Comment your fav food!