ASPEN
Corium becomes a haunted house when there aren’t any students roaming the halls. I won’t lie, the silence is eerie but also comforting. Almost everyone left yesterday, leaving behind those that weren’t wanted by their families back home during the holidays. I can’t imagine there are many of us here. Even criminals celebrate the holidaystogether.
That word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I’m angry that my mother refused to let me come home. She hasn’t seen me in months and rarely calls to check in on me. It really wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t want me there, but it didn’t lessen the sting.
There’s a knock at the door, and I startle, my eyes darting to it. Quinton’s gone, and I’m pretty sure Brittney is hiding somewhere. With that knowledge, I stare at the door and wait for the person on the other side to go away. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen.
The knocking continues, and a moment later, Brittney’s voice filters through the door. “Open up, Aspen! I know you’re in there.”
A smile appears on my lips, and I toss the covers back and rush from the bed, damn near tripping over my own feet. I pull the door open and wrap both arms around her, holding her tight to my chest. I squeeze her tight, thankful that she didn’t have to leave or go into hiding.
“I was worried sick about you,” I say, releasing her before taking a step back.
She frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I needed Phoenix to think I left Corium.”
I should’ve known it had something to do with that terrible ex of hers. My eyes drift down to her hand, where I see a plastic bag dangling between her fingers.
“Lunch?”
Her gaze follows mine. “Yes, I figured I could explain everything, and we could eat lunch together.”
I usher her in and close the door, sealing us inside the room. She pulls two plastic containers from the bag, passing one to me, as well as a fork. I grab a couple of bottled waters that I keep in the mini-fridge and hand her one. She thanks me, and then we sit side by side on the bed. The smell of Chinese food wafts into my nostrils, and my mouth salivates.
I should wait for her to start eating, but my stomach growls loudly, giving away my hunger. Everything from the cafeteria is prepackaged since nearly all the staff went home for break. I have had nothing that wasn’t in plastic wrap for over two days.
We open our containers at the same time and burst into laughter. I let out a groan after I shove the first forkful into my mouth. It’s been forever since I had chicken fried rice.
“This is so good.” I groan, shoving another forkful into my mouth.
Brittney nods as she does the same. “I love cooking. It’s the one thing I hate about being here. I only have a small studio kitchen, and I have to put in a list for groceries a few weeks in advance since we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t live with you. I don’t think I’d ever starve.”
“No, you would not. I don’t know how to cook for one person. I’m always making enough to feed an entire army.”
She isn’t lying. More often than not, she gives me leftovers, and they’re just as good as they were fresh, I’m sure of it.
Once my belly is mostly full and no longer growling, I slow and start shoving the remaining rice around on my plate. Sadness rams into me like a ton of bricks, and I frown, staring down at my plate.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing… I’m just… tired.”
Of being alone, of being here.
There are so many things that I could finish that sentence with, but I press my lips together instead of confessing them out loud. I love Brittney, but I don’t want to be the friend that bogs her down with my problems.
“Is it Quinton?” she implores.
The mere mention of his name makes me shiver. It was pure luck that I escaped running into him before he left. Now I kind of regret it since my stupid heart misses him and all his violent tendencies.
“No, it’s not him.”
“You can tell me if it is. I won’t judge you.”
I give her a half-smile. “I know you won’t, but really, it’s not him.” I pause before deciding to continue. “It’s lots of things, but mainly, it’s being here alone during the holidays. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved the holidays. Putting up the tree, making cookies, and spending time with loved ones. It was such a joy. Now…” I gesture to the room. “I’m here while my mother is God knows where and my father is in prison.” I’m being such a downer. “I’m sorry. I sound pathetic, don’t I?”
Brittney smiles. “No, not at all. I think it’s normal to feel what you’re feeling, but I don’t want you to think you’re alone here.”