Salt

Giving Jesse the promise to update him whenever Ambrose and I made progress, I returned home. He very gladly dropped me off at the front door, despite my protests that my mom would see and be undoubtedly unhappy. In response, he just shook his head and refused to comment.

“I know. I don't get why they–"

"They're just protecting you, Ash, I wouldn't be mad." He stuck his hands into his jean pockets, fingers looping through the belt loops.

I cocked my head, smile faltering. It wasn't often Jesse agreed with my parents, especially when it came to us.

"Why would I need protecting?"

Gaze drilling into me softly, attentively, I wanted to return it in the same fashion, but I couldn't. He'd rocked me, and he knew it.

Instead of answering, he laughed lazily, and pressed his lips to my hairline once more. I closed my eyes, living in this moment, before it would be taken away from me. I could stay here forever, forget about all my troubles and family problems, just so I could spend another minute with him. It seemed every time we were together, it went by too fast. I hated it.

Not giving me the chance to reel him back in, he sauntered down the porch steps and ambled out of sight. And I watched him go, wishing and hoping he'd turn back and present me with another breathtaking smile... but he didn't, and I returned to Earth.

I'd been so sure that this morning would be mine. I could have Carpe Diem'ed the hell out of today, but no, I just had to be that bitch.

Fuck me, honestly.

I pushed open the front door, the soft air of the house coating me in its misplaced security. I was surprised already that I hadn't been ambushed.

My dad's coat was still hanging up, so clearly, this was a rare occurrence where he'd be home. Well, at least until he'd be called back in.

I traveled to the kitchen, where my mother was smothering toast with avocado paste. My dad was sitting at the island, the newspaper in his hands. Of course, neither was speaking to the other.

"Good morning, sweetie. Did you go out for breakfast?" My mom crunched into her toast, only raising her head to meet me at the last moment.

It was too early for this crap, I thought. They were waiting for the perfect opportunity to jump me. So, instead of answering, I plopped down on the seat next to my dad, I didn't look up.

My wind wandered over to Jesse yet again. His dazzling eyes, the way his skin creased like a dimple when he smiled, the manner in which he continued to say my name... nothing compared, or could ever do so. I was still so hung up that the thought reshaped into something new, darker.

Did he think those things about me? Did I have any cute quirks like that? What if I wasn't enough and that's why...

I sighed, meeting the expectant faces of my parents, my mom mid-chew.

"How come you're not at work?" I turned to face my father, pouring myself some juice.

His eyebrows shot up, but he barely spared me a glance.

"I didn't realize it was taking me away from you, honey," His words were kind, but his tone was devoid of all emotion. I didn't get it, why did he insist on treating us like patients? My mom rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I'm a paramedic, not a doctor, I can spend as much time with my family as I want to."

I grunted. Well, he sure as hell liked to leave as often as a doctor would.

Biting my tongue, I chose to drink my juice. The tension in this kitchen was unmistakable, no different from any other day. It wasn't a habit to intentionally walk in on it though, but I seriously thought I'd never rise from this chair, all my energy had dissipated.

Every time my mom took a nibble from her toast, my dad visibly winced, and when he turned the page of his favorite newspaper (and our town's only), she had her mouth ready to sneer.

To be honest, I couldn't remember the last time they said they loved each other, or touched, or even exchanged words that weren't of disdain. I don't know if it's been months or even years, but it's managed to linger in an eternity.

And I guess it made me upset, while I clearly wasn't as upset about it as Zoey, two people that lived in the same house shouldn't react this way.

"Ashley, are you even listening?"

I blinked a few times, to find my mother scowling at me. I'd seen it plenty of times that I registered it as her default expression.

“What?"

“I asked, Zoey has been rather upbeat lately, so has something happened I don't know about?"

Recalling the state my sister had been in just less than a week ago, I delayed in telling my parents. It was the worst I'd seen her, probably because she was on stronger drugs than the usual weed, but also because I was afraid.

Not of them, but for her. Slowly, in the past year, my sister had gotten new friends to replace her old responsible ones, skipped class often and earned devastating grades, had taken up smoking and drinking, and was now intro hardcore recreational Methylenedioxymethamphetamine. No longer was she a fiery redhead with too much sass to handle, or begged cheerleaders to let her hang out with them. She'd forged her own path, and not a good one.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss her.

Not the fourteen-year-old with a smile that could dazzle a hundred people, just the girl who so easily enchanted me.

Taking another sip of juice, I shrugged. "I don't think so. Likely since the last time you both blew up on her, she's being more careful."

Not giving them more time to catch me out, I set the glass down and trudged up the stairs to my room. I passed Zoey's on the way. The door was open...

Now, I pride myself on not being a snoop, except when it was required – this was one of those times. I was concerned for my sister, her well-being. She was only a teen, her life wasn't ruined yet.

I closed the door behind me, just in case, as I took a swift look around. The dark walls reminded me of the dark I faced every day, taunting me, calling me childish names. I set them aside as I began rummaging through her drawers.

I'd ransacked them top to bottom, but there was no secret stash. Perhaps she'd taken it with her to school again? No, no, she wasn't that stupid.

What if there was nothing to find?

It was an entertaining fantasy, but for some reason, I didn't believe it. Not because I didn't trust Zoey, or I had no faith in her, but I just... I didn't know how long I could go on covering for her.

Someday, she's going to have to face the repercussions for her decisions. It just wasn't today.

Exhaling, I left the room, for the first time hearing a whirring sound. I perked an ear, yeah, it was definitely the washer room. That was quite odd, though, mom usually didn’t start a wash until night.

I walked in, watching the cycle spin, the bubbles inciting a slow stream of water that washed them all away. Pop, pop, pop, those condensed suds looking somewhat pink, reflection of nothing.

I leaned down, fascinated.

Pausing the machine, I unlatched the door, coming face to face with a tan shirt. I pulled it out, spotting the red stain immediately. My thumb brushed over it on its own, as I heard my parents begin their daily screaming match.

Flinging it back in, it wasn't until I returned to my room that I realized I'd never seen that shirt before.