Sophia
Holy shit.Adrian talked to me, and he was nice. Not that he’s never been cordial. He is occasionally. But tonight, he took an interest in my safety.
Maybe it’s time I take Randall’s advice and ask him out. You know, instead of pining for him from afar. Hoping he will finally notice me. The longing glances, and finding reasons to talk to him, are clearly not getting me anywhere. I wasn’t sure if he felt anything toward me until earlier this afternoon when I was getting the supply order ready. There was a full package of transfer paper sitting on the table behind him. He wouldn’t need more for months. There’s only one reason he would have asked me to order more… he wanted me to come back so he could talk to me.
Cars fly by while I exit the highway. There isn’t usually this much traffic out at this time of night. It’s only ten, but most people are tucked away into their beds, preparing for another work day. Wednesdays are the only days we close early since it’s almost always slow, and I can’t wait to curl up on my couch with a book.
Headlights flash in my rearview, startling me. Any other day it wouldn’t bother me. Something is different about this one, though. It is making the same turns as I am. My stomach is in knots, and telling me something isn’t right. I learned long ago to trust that feeling.
My apartment is only a few blocks from my parents’ house, but I don’t want to go there. Not when I have the feeling I’m being followed. My mind flashes to Dawson as I turn left on the street where my parents live, and the car turns moments after me. I haven’t had any issues with him in almost a year. Maybe I’m panicking for nothing, and the person in that car lives in the same neighborhood. It isn’t something I want to take a chance on, though.
The car that was behind me speeds past me when I turn into my parents’ driveway, shocking me. They are all of a sudden in a hurry after being a decent distance behind me this whole time. It’s disconcerting, and goosebumps rise on my arms. That is not normal.
Minutes pass by. I don’t know if I should go inside and tell my parents, or if I should shake it off and go home. Someone taps on my window, and I jump. A small scream escaping my lips. Jay is smiling at me through the driver’s window. “You scared the hell out of me, asshole.”
“I’m not the one parked in the driveway staring off into space,” he laughs. “Are you going to come in, or sit out here like some sort of creeper?”
Even though I know my brother is just playing around, the word creeper coming out of his mouth sends shivers down my spine. Still not ready to go home, I wave him back. "Yeah, I'll come inside for a bit." He takes another step back as I open my door. "Something just happened, and I need to talk to y’all about it."
Concern crosses over his face, but he doesn't say anything. As soon as I'm out of the car, he gently shuts the door behind me. Who would have thought that I would go from so excited about Adrian talking to me to terrified in a matter of twenty minutes?
The front door is wide open because my brother obviously still does not know how to shut the door behind him. I'm just stepping over the threshold when I turn back to make sure my brother is following. He's not, though. He standing in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes roving the street in both directions. He must've had the same thought I did. I don't know if that is comforting, or if it only worries me more. "Are you coming?"
"Yeah," he runs his fingers through his short brown hair. "I'll be there in just a second."
Instead of pestering him about whatever he is thinking, like I want to, I walk inside and shut the door behind. Yes, I know that he said he would be right in but I wasn't raised in a barn. And knowing my luck, Mom will yell at me for leaving it open.
"Hi, Honey." She doesn't even give me a chance to turn around or put my bag down before her arms are wrapping around me. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight."
The air smells like cilantro, ground meat, and onions. My mouth begins watering even though I had a late lunch. "Sorry, I wasn't really planning on coming over either." She pulls back, releasing me from her embrace. Her brows furrow, and she frowns. I will do anything to wipe that worried expression off her face. So, I change the subject. "You do realize that yesterday was Tuesday, right?"
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" She puts her hands on her hips as if my question offends her.
"You made tacos," I wave my arm toward the kitchen. "And it's Wednesday."
She rolls her eyes just as the door swings open and hits me in the back. "Damn it, Jay."
"Sorry," he mutters. "In my defense, you shouldn’t be standing right in front of the door."
He has a point, but I'm not going to tell him that. "It's not my fault. Mom came at me like she hasn't seen me over a year. It's been like three days."
"Well, excuse me for being happy that my daughter is unexpectedly visiting me." She throws her hands in the air, exasperated. "Let's go to the kitchen so you can eat some tacos." She pauses and studies me. "Unless you're too cool to eat tacos on a Wednesday, and only eat them on Tuesdays." I'm not too cool to eat tacos on Wednesday. If it were up to me, I would eat tacos every day. "And Jay, shut the door. You're letting all the cold air out," she calls as she rounds the corner into the kitchen.
Jay pushes me forward in order to close the door. "You have barely been here five minutes, and I'm already getting in trouble."
Smirking, I walk toward the kitchen. "Better get used to it, little brother. You may still be the baby in this family, but remember… you're only here until the end of summer break. She has to get on to you, or smother you, as much as she can before you go back to school."
He mutters something under his breath that sounds similar to “brat” before turning toward the living room. "I'm assuming you'll want Dad here for whatever you want to talk about."
And just like that, my momentary good mood comes to a screeching halt. Neither one of my parents are going to take my suspicions lightly. Hell, I'll be surprised if they don't demand that I move back in. "Yeah, he needs to be here for this too."
"I'll go get him." He continues to the living room in search of Dad. I, on the other hand, go straight to the kitchen. As much as this conversation is going to suck, tacos make everything better.
Mom already has a plate of tacos and a few slices of lime on the table. “So, what happened?”
“Why would something have happened?” I’m playing dumb. She knows it, too.
“Because you show up here, unexpectedly, and sit in the driveway for minutes. Is it Dawson again?” She pulls out the chair next to me and sits down.