Chp.20

I arrive home, just in time for dinner. I run to the kitchen and grab myself an apple. I call out for Mom but she's probably in her room, sleeping or something. But after what happened, I always feel a bit edgy. That day made me unreasonable.

Just to make sure, I decide to go up and check. But I stop when I see the living room TV on. Feeling flooded with relief, I walk inside, about to call out when I stop. It's not her. It's Dad. The TV is showing nothing but static because of the rain outside I guess. The room is dark except for the TV's faint light. But why is he watching static? I walk in front of him, and I see him asleep on his armchair. His head cocked to the side, as he snores, a hand hanging down with the remote, his mouth slightly open. If he had been planning to sleep, then his blanket most likely slipped of, judging by the one resting on his feet.

I grab it and cover him up with it, tucking it under his chin so it wouldn't fall again. He flinches but keeps on sleeping. I take the remote from him and turn off the TV. The room suddenly feels silenced. I look at him, the dark eye rings under his eyes, and sigh. He's trying so hard to buy any house in the city. He's trying to get us out of here as soon as possible. But it keeps on delaying. I could almost see the stress in his wrinkles.

"He cares about you," I jump with the sudden voice, "Just like you care about him." I turn my body and there's Mom, standing with her arms crossed.

I shrug, looking at him again, "Don't get to see that often."

She lets out a long breath of air, "He's got a lot of things to do and you know it."

I shrug again, clutching the apple tightly in my right hand.

"It's been more than a year," I mutter, "People are starting to forget everything."

She sighs, "We can't depend on what the people think, Luke."

I take this sentence to my advantage, "Exactly. We can't depend on what they think. So why can't we ignore them and move on?"

"We are moving on. To another city."She replies merely.

There's a long hollow silence before she speaks up,

"I called the school. Asked about your progress." I hold my breath, "And Luke, they said you're not getting any better."

I lower my head slightly, indicating to her that I know.

"They want you to join a camp. It's a summer program. And for once I don't want you to argue and just listen to-"

"I'll go." I blurt.

Her eyes widen with the sudden words, "What?"

"I said I'll go." I mutter, "I want to become a better person if we go to the city. I don't want to have a bad future ahead of me."

What I tell her was the mere truth. In some ways.

She smiles, and it's been a while since I saw this warmth.

"Did you have anything to eat?" She asks.

I show her the apple, taking a huge bite, juice dripping down my hand. I rub it off from my jeans.

Then she says something a bit unexpected, "You got into a fight with that Marsh's son." And it's not even a question.

I'm surprised the dark room could reveal that much.

"No," I lie, "I just… fell."

Yeah. Fell right into Ander Marsh.

She doesn't say any further. So, I leave her be, eating away my apple and tossing it in the bin. I head upstairs to my room. It looks empty. Those charts were long gone, but now that I look at the walls, I feel empty. And it's strange because I never felt like this before. Not for a while. And I have this urge, an angry surge, to punch myself hard. For what I've done. Nothing. I've done absolutely nothing. I swallow a pang of sadness. And I realize how much I miss her. How much I miss Jesse. It hurts now to see how oblivious I acted. How I tried to ignore her. It makes me look like the evil one. I fall on my bed, staring at the ceiling, the sorrow still stabbing me like daggers. I've nothing to say. Because I don't have anything to say. How will I ever make it up to her? How will I ever make it up to you, Jesse? How will I get rid of this guilt?

"I'll make it up to you…" is all that comes out of my mouth.

I won't go ahead and dive in the madness though. I'll just be the… supervisor or whatever. And Sophie, will do the rest. That is, if she's willing to. Because my minds enough damaged already.

I get up, quickly, about to take out my phone, when I look at myself in the mirror. A stupid cut on the side of my lips. My face covered with dark smudges. Clothes dustier than ever.

Ok… I'll do everything after I take a shower.

I come back to the room, feeling refreshed. I sit on my desk, my mobile in my hands. I go to the contact list and click at Sophie's. I decide not to call her. A text won't hurt.

Me: Hi..

Me: It's Lukas

Me: Got that note

Me: And I think u know more then what u r saying

Me: Meet me tomorrow in the library and I'll give u some answers if u need em

Me: Please…?

I'm not really satisfied with what I wrote but who cares? As long as she replies back…

Which I really hope she does. Who knows what she knows? What if all she wants to know is about Jesse – and I know more about her than anyone now. And all I wanna know is a few stuff about Skylar. Which I hope she answers.

But I'll have to wait till tomorrow to find that out.

I lay down on my bed, shutting off the nights and calling it in for the night.

I hope she answers back. I really hope she agrees. Because maybe she's got more answers than I'll ever need.

But if she reads the message and still doesn't show up, then I'll know she wants no part of it. That she doesn't want my help and is supporting her sister or something

Either way…

I'm back.

For a little while anyway.