Chp.18

"I'm guessing he really hates you." She says, kneeling down to pick up the carton of spilled milk, throwing it in a nearby trash bin.

"Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual." I murmur, still rubbing the blood stain from my lips.

I watch her grab a now-squished tomato, she sighs and tosses it in the bin again. I stoop down and grab another one, helping her clear the area. And she lets me.

"I don't know if I should thank you or apologize to you." I finally say, "I mean with all the mess I created but still you helped me get rid of Ander."

She raises her eyebrows, smiling at the same time. "No need to thank me. I did what anyone would have done. If I had the guts, I would punch that guy till he passes out."

I chuckle softly, "I'm pretty sure you can do that if you wanted to."

She laughs, "Guess we'll never find out."

We finish cleaning the mess. The sun's surprisingly setting, a tranquil orange with a gentle cool breeze replacing the humidity. Time really flies, especially when you don't want it to.

"Again, I'm really sorry for wasting all this…" I say, scratching a nervous itch on the back of my neck.

She crosses her arms, a grin on her face, "If it makes you any better, you can buy all my things for me again."

I raise my eyebrow, "You're serious?"

"Of course I am," She heads for the super market, "Do you really expect you'll get away with this?"

"I knew this was too good to be true." I tell her.

She rolls her eyes, a toothy smile, "I hope you have some money, because you got a lot to buy."

I sigh, relief flooding in me that I conveniently do have some money.Enough to buy some of her groceries.

I pull out a cart from the stand and push it inside. Sophie already waiting for me to come. The market's noisy with crowds of people. I watch as two women fight over a perfume bottle. Apparently it's on sale. The lights are brighter than I could remember. People frustratingly waiting in lines, next to the counters, looking at their watches from time to time.

"Get a side, will ya kid?" says a voice of a middle-aged man, making me jump. I look behind me, pulling the cart to a corner, with me.

He grunts a thanks but then he gives me a long stare, his droopy mustache moving up and down as he sniffs. I feel disgust but try hard not to show it.

"I know you," He says dryly, "You're…you're George's son, right?"

"I am." I say, matter-of-factly.

He sneers, about to say something when someone barges in front of me.

"I've been waiting for ages," Sophie exclaims, "Come on already."

She shakes her head slightly, motioning me to follow her. She grabs me by my arm and drags me away from the man.

"Didn't you know, you're not supposed to talk to strangers, genius?" her words drip with sarcasm.

I don't listen to her, my gaze falling on the man again. I don't think she means exactly what she's saying. I know the man was about to say something about Jesse. It's always something about Jesse. People I don't know, know me as – not Lukas Wells – but the little brother off the killer. I could have been known as the brightest kid in town or something if you didn't do what you did. Why were you such an idiot? Why would you do that? Did you even think about me when you did all this damage? Were you really that selfish?

"Umm... calling to Lukas." Sophie snaps me back to the present.

"What?" I blink.

"I said, we need to hurry, I'm already late."

I shrug.

"Let's go to the dairy section first," She suggests, "I mean, it's the closest."

She looks at me, expecting to go first. I flush with embarrassment, staring at the floor, "It's uh… been a while since I came here. So…"

She frowns, "How long?"

"Let's just say I prefer Mr. Walker's shop."

She laughs, "You're as red as anything."

"Let's just get this over with.

"Alright." She nods, "I'll get everything, as long as you keep on pushing the cart, and, of course, paying."

"Fine by me."

We go through different sections, the cart filling and filling with random groceries. All this time, I couldn't help feeling sheepish. It's not like we talk to each other or anything. I've been trying my best to avoid her these past months. And now that I think about it, I don't know why I was doing that. We remain silent for the rest of the time, only focusing on hurrying. I really need to go home. Many people stop and stare at me, giving me the stink eye, probably wondering what I'm doing here. Even I'm wondering what I'm doing here. It takes us a while before we finally reach a counter. I breathe a sigh of relief, standing in front of a long line, but still glad that it's almost over.

"I know you've been ignoring me all these months." Sophie finally breaks the silence, and even with the shop being a mix of chatter, I hear her low voice loud and clear.

I swallow a lump in my throat, frowning. But I don't reply to her, focusing in space.

"I really can't blame you about it." She continues talking. And I want her to stop. I don't want to talk about this.

"I mean after what Skylar did-"

"I left that all behind me." I mutter, interrupting her, "I don't feel like talking about it. Ever."

"Yes, I know but-"

"Sophie," I give her a long hard stare, "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"But there's something I need to tell you." She pushes.

It only makes me angrier.

"Look," I snap, "I appreciate that you don't blame Jesse for this but honestly, I just don't care anymore. I really don't give a shit about what Jesse or Skylar did. I don't care who killed who. I don't care if Skylar or Jesse is guilty or a completely different guy. As long as I leave this stupid town, we'll all be better off."

She flinches, and I realize that my voice has grown louder. I realize I was yelling at her.

I shake my head, feeling somewhat ashamed, even though she started it,

"I'm sorry." I say, quietly, "But let's not talk about it, okay?"

She nods, chewing her lips, the look she has shows anxiety, like she's holding on to something she doesn't want to.

She's trying to tell you something. Why don't you let her tell you it, idiot? Maybe it's important, something we need to know?

It doesn't matter if she wants to tell something important. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know anything.

Even if it's the killer's name?

I pause. What kind of question is that? How the hell can she know the killer's name?

My heart starts thudding with excitement and fear. I feel a rush. I feel like… myself. All of a sudden, I feel like I want to know the truth again. Like I want to prove Skylar wrong again.Like I want to talk to Jesse again. I feel that stupid determination. I can't block it even when I want to.

Deep down, you want to know who made your life miserable. You want to know who killed your sister. It doesn't matter if you don't admit it. I know you want me to come back.

"Shut up." I whisper. "Just shut the heck up."

You want to find out everything, you know you want to start searching for the answer again. But you're afraid that you won't be able to do all this alone. Imagine if you can get a little help? Will that get you back on track?

I close my eyes shut tightly, for a brief second, trying to focus on beating this voice of mine, haunting me.

Who'd want to help me with such a ludicrous thing, huh?

The one who wants to talk to you. The one you've been ignoring. The one you know has some answers.

Sophie?

I realize she's been standing right next to me this whole time. That's the problem when I talk to the voice. It's like my connection with the outside world completely cuts off. I don't hear them at all when I'm trying to push the voice down.

I turn to look at her.

"Hey Soph-"

But she's not here. She's gone. I grimace with confusion. She was here a minute ago. Where the hell did she go? I look around me, narrowing my eyes, trying to find out a blond girl with a ponytail. But she isn't here. She can't just disappear into thin air. Can she?

Okay, now I'm talking crazy.

"Next!" Shouts the plump lady sitting next to the counter. She stares at me gravely,

"I'm talking to you kid."

I frown at her, "Did you see a girl standing next to me, just a minute ago?"

"You mean that Blondie?"

"Um… yes." I answer.

She gives a smile that makes me uneasy before saying, "Didn't ya see? She left."

My eyes widen with disbelief, "She what?"

The woman rolls her eyes, "Look I don't have all day, alright? She left. That's that. Now do you want to buy all your things or not?"

I can't believe she left me without saying another word. Was I really that focused on talking to the voice that she easily managed to slip away like that?

And to think she left without her groceries. What was the point of taking me to shop with her if she just wanted to leave in the end? I look down at the cart. I'm not gonna buy all this for nothing. But why would she-?

My thoughts stop spinning when I see a piece of paper on top of the cart.

A feeling of nostalgia hits me. It reminds me of all those things that happened to me. I never expected another one after I quit.

Looks familiar?

I slowly pick it up. And I feel so afraid. My hands trembling uncontrollably. My breathing quickens as I slowly unfold it, feeling mix emotions of anxiety, worry and… some thrill.

It makes me realize how much I used to be… well, used to it. This note I'm holding in my hands, reminds me of who I am. Who I became after Jesse left.

And…I like it. I want it.

You know Jesse didn't do anything. So why don't you prove it?

The voice is less harsh. It's not a whisper. And I hear some humane tone in it. And I realize the voice is mine. Always had been. The further I went from it, the more ruthless it became. But now that I'm coming back to who I am, it's being easy on me.

I finally open the note. My heart sinks when I read something I don't know if I was expecting or not.

I know about the list, Luke. I know more than you think.

It says, merely.

But I'm stunned.

Because this note is from Sophie. All this time… she knew? She wanted to talk to me because she knew. That day, when I found that piece of paper, with our names, she knew. She saw the list. She didn't need it because she read it when I was holding it. But how did she know where to find it? Was she doing her own research? Was she really determined to find out the truth? Did she know what I had been doing then?

And I realize something even more important.

That I'm not alone.