Page 71 of Withered

He shrugs and says, “He’s weird.”

I ignore him and focus on the lesson.

Time goes by, and now I’m standing in front of my locker, waving goodbye to Kristy and Tyler, as well as a few other friends on the way.

The second I spot Dad’s car in the driveway, I smile. Parking my car, I find Dad on the couch, reading a book, and Mom in the kitchen. My grin grows at seeing my parents at home.

“Hi Dad,” I say, dropping my bag near the couch.

“Hi, kiddo. You look happy,” he replies.

Do I?Given everything that is going on, I must cover up well.

“Hi, Mom!” I yell so she could hear me and listen to her faint response.

I take a seat next to Dad, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close to his chest. He is currently reading a book about the heart. He glances down at me a few minutes later and says, "You look different."

“I put makeup on,” I tell him. I cried all night and woke up with puffy eyes. I had to cover it up.

“Looks great. I like you without it.” He flicks my nose and gets back to reading.

I go to my room, change, and return downstairs. Mom has already kept food ready for me at the table. She’s still cooking something with her back to me.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say as I settle on the stool. I drink water and start eating.

“Is something bothering you?” Mom asks.

“No. Why?” I am confused.

“You drank water.” She turns off the stove and faces me.

“So?” I take a spoonful of rice.

“You did not touch your juice. That’s the first thing you do,” she speaks, crossing her hands.

I shrug. “Everything is okay, Mom.”

“If you say so. Could you please take this to Esme’s place? I made this, especially for them.” She asks.

“You mean Jake’s mom?” I swallow.

“Well, yes,” she states.

“Yeah, okay,” I say. Jake’s window was closed when I went upstairs, so he must not be home. I can do it.

I finish my food, take the container, and head to Jake’s house—no, make that Aria’s or Esme’s home. That’s better. It’s late afternoon, and I don’t think Esme is home.

As I near their house, I hope and pray Jake isn’t home. I hear voices, and they grow louder the closer I get.

I was going to knock on the door but halt when I heard Jake’s voice as clear as the sky today, with a comparative little voice of Esme’s.

“I don’t give a damn what he wants or needs. I’m not going there, and that’s the end of it.” Jake’s voice booms.

I instinctively took a step back and turned to leave because this doesn’t seem like the best time to talk. Jake sounds truculent; he might just burst.

“He is trying. The least you could do is give him a chance,” Esme voices.

I am not trying to eavesdrop, but I can hear everything. They are that loud.

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