Page 11 of Withered

“Yes, I am. I sat at the back, so no one could notice me. Besides, you were probably busy noticing that Caleb boy,” he says this while bringing a cigarette to his mouth.

“Okay,” I say, not getting the point.

“Do you want one?” He offers me his cigarette, and I scrunch my face at that. I do not like smoking. I detest it.

“No, thank you. Why have that when you have other options to die?” I mumbled the last part under my breath, but they seemed to hear it.

Tyler chuckles, and Jake, who is standing next to him, smirks. There is no cigarette in his hand, which looks weird to me. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a cigarette in his hand. I catch a glimpse of a tattoo on the back of his hand and one on his finger. If anything, I’d have taken him as the smoker of the two.

I don’t even like secondhand smoke, so I need to get away. “I better get going; it’s getting late.” Throwing my backpack into the backseat, I get in the driver’s seat.

“See you tomorrow,” says Tyler.

Just before I start my engine, I hear Jake say, “Or not.”

I don’t like him. Like, what did I ever do to him? He is the most infuriating and egotistical boy I have ever met.

I faintly hear the front door open, which breaks my sleep.

“Honey, I’m home,” my mother screams from below, and then the door closes.

“You woke me up, Mom,” I groaned. When my sleep is interrupted, I become cranky.

I look at the clock, which reads 3:30 p.m. I slept only for half an hour. I whine for a while, get out of bed, and head to the bathroom. Splashing my face with cold water, I go downstairs to see Mom on the couch, drinking her black coffee and watching an episode of a master chef on TV. Leave it to my mom to try new dishes.

I chuckle and sit next to her. “How was work?” I ask her, but my eyes are glued to the TV.

“Same as every day. What about you? How was school today?” She asks, looking at me.

I hugged her lightly. “Same.”

Then, all of a sudden, Jake’s face pops into the back of my mind, dulling my mood. Mom notices the sudden change in my behavior and asks, “Everything okay? You just went quiet?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I said, faking a smile. Jake is of no importance. Why waste time on someone like that?

We were only about five minutes into watching TV when we heard the sound of tires screeching. Mom stands up and peers out of the window, and before I could ask anything, she walks out of the house, shouting, “I’ll be back.”

Furrowing my eyebrows at her behavior, I look out of the window myself.

She is talking to a lady who has a little girl standing behind her as if she is hiding.

I slip into my flip-flops and walk out of the house. Mom and the lady are now in the front yard of the house next door, along with a vehicle loaded with furniture.Our new neighbors?

I walk over to the next house, where my mom is still busy speaking to her. They halt when they see me, and the lady smiles at me.

“Hello. I am Rose.” I wave to the lady. She is tall with long, dark brown hair that ends up almost blonde downwards in a wavy form. Her eyes are what catch my attention; they are as enticing as the ocean.

“She’s my daughter,” Mom pipes in.

“Oh my god, she is so beautiful. I’m Esme. Your new neighbor.” She says this and engulfs me in a hug. With my arms still at my sides, I am surprised by her greeting. I look over at Mom, who smiles at me, and so I hug her properly.

As she lets go of me, my eyes go to the little girl who is behind her. She looks up at me with the same blue eyes as her Mom’s. I go down on my knees, so I am at her eye level.

“Hi,” I say in a little voice. She hides more, but I bend my head to one side to see her.

“What is your name, little one?” I ask her. I am a single child, as is Kristy, so I am very less experienced when it comes to children. But I’ve been told I get along well.

She doesn’t answer and hides further. So, I try something else. “I like your ponytail.” She looks like a porcelain doll—so delicate.

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