The Worst Choice

I pulled into the small driveway, careful not to hit the bright red minivan taking up most of the space. Deciding there was enough space between the two vehicles, I put the car in park and turned it off. I looked over at Nash, who was long passed out. How he has issues sleeping with his injuries in a bed, but not a car, beats the hell out of me. But I'm glad he got rest nonetheless.

"Nash," I whispered in a sing-song voice, poking his thigh. Nothing. "Nash!" I called a little bit louder, shaking his leg.

"Mm, what?" he asked, his voice husky with sleep. I ignored the shiver that went down my spine. He lifted his head, looking around tiredly before realizing we were here. "Fuck. I didn't mean to fall asleep. How long have I been sleeping?"

"You fell asleep like ten minutes after you smoked," I said, chuckling. His plan clearly didn't work, since he was out before we were in the car for even a half hour.

"Ah, sorry. You must've been bored without my voice," he said.

I scoffed. "Please. I was having a blast singing along to the radio without you shooting me judgmental looks," I told him.

"And watching me sleep, like you usually do?" he suggested, a cocky smirk on his face.

I playfully glared at him. "Not my fault you're only attractive when you aren't speaking," I said.

"Getting sassy, are we?" he asked.

"I learn from the best," I said. "So are we going to stay out here or make our way inside?" He took a deep breath, staring at the house. The house was only one floor, but it looked comfortable. It was clear that a kid lived here, due to a few toys scattered about the front yard. Looking back at Nash, I saw he was in deep thought as he stared. With pursed lips, eyebrows scrunched together and none of his piercings in, he reminded me of a lost boy. "Nash, it'll be okay."

He tore his gaze away from the house and met my eyes, giving me a small smile. "I know," he said, opening the door and stepping out with confidence. I sighed as I got out of the car too, hoping that a good enough amount of confidence wasn't being faked.

"How about we let them know we're here first?" I suggested, noticing Nash standing at the trunk, waiting for me to pop it open. "Then we can come outside and get the bags."

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Okay," he said. I waited until he was next to me before we walked up to the door. I looked at him, waiting for him to either ring the doorbell or walk in. He chewed on his bottom lip, sighing as he slipped his hand into mine, squeezing tightly as he used his free hand to push the button.

It only took a few seconds for the door to open, revealing a short brunette haired girl, who looked like she was hardly in her mid-twenties. "Oh my, Nash?" she asked, her big brown eyes staring at him in amazement.

He offered her a smile. "Hey, Carrie," he said.

"You've grown up so much!" she all but squealed, wrapping her arms around Nash's neck. I could tell he was a bit uncomfortable with the physical contact, but it was obvious that his tension faded as he let go of my hand and hugged her back. She was the first to pull away, pulling his face down to her level to get a better look at him.

He chuckled. "It happens over time," he said.

"Well, I'd guess so," she said, before her eyes fell upon me. "You must be Ashlyn!"

I smiled. "Hi, it's great to meet you," I greeted her, before she pulled me in a hug as tight as the one she'd just giving Nash.

"It's great to meet you! Nash has told me so much about you," she gushed, pulling away. "Come in, come in."

We walked inside, entering the living room and sitting down on a deep blue sofa fixated in front of a TV with a Xbox and games piled in front of it. "Eric's at soccer practice, but he should be home any minute now," Carrie informed us, sitting at the same blue colored recliner. "He begged me for an hour to let him skip it, but I wouldn't let him. He's a lot like you, you know."

Nash gave her what looked like a slightly forced smile. "So you've told me," he said.

It was silent a few moments before Carrie broke it. "How are you, Nash?" she asked him. "I mean, how are things at home and all?"

"They're fine," Nash lied. I fought the urge to make a face at his answer.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I still feel awful that I actually agreed to letting you stay in that household with that horrid man. If you weren't eighteen, I'd get you out of there n- I'm rambling, aren't I? Does she know...?" Her eyes wandered to me.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, she does," he said, lacing his fingers with mine. When I felt him immediately start to play with my fingers, I could practically feel how uncomfortable he was with the direction of the conversation.

Sensing the tension in the room, she changed the subject. "You guys are adorable. How long have you been together?"

"Two months," I answered when Nash didn't respond.

"Really?" she asked, sounding surprised. "You two seem like you've been together for awhile. Just how you interact and all."

It seemed as if I was constantly hearing that, but it never ceased to make me smile idiotically every time I heard it. I saw Nash glance at me and a grin crept onto his lips, too.

"Carrie! Is Nash here yet?! Is he?!" A high-pitched, boyish voice nearly screamed. I turned and saw a boy with curly brown hair, bright blue eyes, freckles all over his face and his two front teeth missing. But he was adorable and his eyes, nose and the shape of his face all resembled Nash. "Nash?!"

Nash moved his hair out of his eyes to get a better look and smiled. I watched as his eyes filled with happiness and excitement, but also sadness. "Yeah, who are you?" he asked, standing up and walking over to him. "You look and sound a lot like my brother Eric, but you're far too tall to be him."

Eric grinned up at him. "You're really here!" he beamed, hugging his waist tightly. "Carrie said you were coming but I didn't believe her because you were always to busy to come but you're really here!"

"Of course I am," Nash answered, hugging the little boy back. "Happy belated birthday, by the way."

"Thanks!" he exclaimed. "I'm nine years old now! Guess what I got for my birthday!" He dragged Nash by his hand and nearly pushed him back onto the couch before jumping next to him, excitedly telling him all about the gifts he got from Carrie and his soccer team. Even though he'd already explained the details to Nash over the phone the night of his birthday, Nash still listened, looking truly interested. I didn't doubt for a second his interest was faked, either.

My eyes wandered to Carrie, who was smiling. It was an adorable scene, really. One you'd never really expect Nash to be apart of. Carrie caught my eyes and nodded her head toward the kitchen. I nodded, gently squeezing Nash's hand briefly. He looked at me questioningly and I only responded with a smile before getting up and following Carrie into the kitchen.