This chapter was a pain. A true pain, and that's all I'm going to say about it right now...
One thing though. I made a mistake a while back and I'm going to go back and amend it, but I want t clear it up with everyone who's already read the scene. Shaena's older brother and sister did attend Headline, and Jasamin does know them. For whatever reason when I wrote that dialogue in "The Secrets We Keep" I was in Dekka's headset, and I have no idea how "He didn't go to Headline" came out. DX
Also, Shayne is the older sibling. I know Chris said otherwise but that was actually a typo; I got the names mixed up.
Okay, I just wanted to clear that up so that it doesn't confuse anyone as we go forward, and I will fix that ASAP.
Sorry for the long wait!
I own only what my own mind creates...
Enjoy!
~Blown Away~
Next year, she would invite Lauren. She would introduce her to Wyatt, but not her mother, because the woman was crazy and would certainly run her off. Wyatt would take them ice skating, and Violet wouldn't feel quite as stupid with the presence of someone else who had no idea what they were doing.
"Are you coming?" Wyatt was balancing on his skates a few feet away from her, ice crackling under the blades.
She eyed the blades, watching ice chip away as he shifted slightly. "You're totally sure the ice is thick enough?"
"Of course!" Wyatt laughed, throwing his head back. "So long as you don't get to close to the center."
She followed his gaze to the center of the lake, where the ice is dark. "Dually noted."
She climbed to her feet and edged out onto the ice, slipping and landing hard on the ice, arms jolting painfully.
"Hey." Wyatt crouched beside her, face alight with amusement. "Don't fall."
"Haha." Violet sneered, slamming her palm into the ice. "So funny. Now help me up."
He chuckled, and wrapped his hands around her arm, tugging her back to an upright position. "You're so helpless," he teased.
She punched his arm, and went sliding, almost falling again and giving a little squeal. When she was steadier, she took a deep breath, and set her gaze on Wyatt. "Just...give me a push, and I'll figure it out from there, okay?"
Wyatt shrugged, and made his way behind her. Violet felt his hands on her back, and then he asked, "Ready?" She nodded. "One. Two...Three!"
Then, she was sailing across the ice, laughing as she wobbled unsteadily, and wind whipped her dark braid behind her head. She threw her arms out and pretended to fly, eyes closed.
"Vi!" The vision shattered as her brother's worried voice reached her. Her eyes snapped open, and she turned to look,, call:
"What?"
The motion threw off her balance, and one leg slipped, causing the other to buckle with the sudden weight. She shrieked, and hit the ice hard, everything stinging, and her lungs and nose suddenly burning.
She was in the water, she realized. The ice had shattered; she must have gone too far.
A violent chill ran through her as the freezing water seeped into her skin and froze her blood. The sudden temperature change was sucking her strength away with shocking speed. She couldn't get her head back above water, and the skates, already too heavy for her, were sinking her like a stone.
She opened her mouth to scream, but only took in more water. She didn't have any oxygen let. Her vision was growing black at the edges, and she watched helplessly as the sky turned into a distant light above her.
Unreachable.
~Blown Away~
The chairs in this airport were very uncomfortable.
Sure, these chairs weren't her only option, the benches in the food court were pretty comfortable, but focusing on how much her back and rear ached was a welcome distraction from the other thought plaguing her mind.
As much as she hated to admit it, Rose had been right about one thing; people don't just change. Maybe over time, with a lot of hard work and dedication, but not in a mere three months, and not without any motivation at all.
"Boarding Flight Two-nine."
Jasamin stood collecting her backpack, and took a deep breath thinking of Julie, who once told her that a problem that can't be solved is a problem not worth anyone's time. She needed a new problem to solve.
But there were no other problems to solve, which, in itself was an unsolvable problem, bringing her straight back to square one.
She found a seat in the very back of the plane, by the window, and sighed deeply, settling into it and closing her eyes. She was tired.
That was an easy problem to solve.
~Blown Away~
She woke to a scream, short and high, that would have made her leap out of the seat had she not been buckled in. She whipped her head around, breathing deep and ragged, searching for the cause of the distress, then realized it had been her that had screamed, and clapped a hand over he mouth, feeling the color rush to her cheeks.
A concerned flight attendant poked her head around the seats and stared at her, looking for the cause of her outburst. "Is everything alright, Miss?"
Jasamin removed her hand slowly, knowing she probably looked like a deer in a headlight. "Uh...yeah, I'm fine. Nightmare. I'm sorry."
The woman straightened, clearing her throat. "Okay, well, we'll be landing momentarily, so..." she trailed off, but Jasamin nodded anyways.
"I'll prepare myself." She forced a smile, which was enough for the flight attendant, who turned and clicked away.
She slumped back into her seat, inhaling deeply, and turned her eyes to the window. The sun was just making an appearance, and the buildings that made up Los Angelas were half painted in the orange of sunrise, and half hidden in the dark purples of shadow. It made her think of her situation; her dark home-life, and the light found at Headline. That looming feeling crept its way into her chest again, the feeling that anything could happen.
The thought made her stomach twist as though someone were attempting to wring it dry. Anything could happen, and for her, anything was bad.
The plane landed too soon, and she was standing in the parking lot staring at her phone. She had three messages.
She had expected Lauren's and Beat's, which wished her a good morning and asked for confirmation that she was still alive. Normally, it was a joke, but this time, Jasamin got the feeling that neither had been going for a laugh.
The third made her heart skip. It was Chris.
The first thought that raced through her mind was that Chris was mad. Mad at her for what she'd said to Rose, angry that she had the nerve to kiss someone already involved, then to treat the girlfriend like a bad person. She almost didn't open it, but whatever the message said, she knew she owed it to Chris to at least look at it, so she opened the message.
It read: I believe in trusting a person enough to offer a second chance, but there is a fine line between, trust and stupidity. Don't step over it.
She closed her eyes, releasing a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding; then gave a short laugh. It was Chris, even if she was mad, she wouldn't let Jasamin hear it. Sometimes, she though that Chris was too nice.
And that was one of the reason's that she loved her.
~Blown Away~
She lived in a small town out in the middle of no where, and the nearest airport, L.A, was two hours away. Luckily, however, three years at Headline meant she knew a lot of people in a lot of places.
"Thanks," She offered as she tossed her suitcase in the back and settled into the passenger's seat.
Shayne Carter didn't look much like his youngest sisters. Shaena and Shaela had average builds, with round faces, and features that flowed softly into each other. Shayne, on the other hand, was built broad, wide shoulders, sharp features, and a broad jaw. He looked mean, until you foNd his eyes. He and Sheala had the same kind eyes.
"No problem," he replied with Shaela's soft voice. Jasamin felt her heart squeeze. She didn't deserve that kind of kindness.
"No, really," She went on, "I know you don't get a lot of time off, and you should be using this time to study for that intern exam thing-"
"Jazz." Jasamin faultered, staring at him with wide eyes. "Really, it's fine. The intern exams aren't even for a few months, and my other option for a day off is hanging out with the other interns, and well..." he lowered his voice as though afraid someone who cared may hear. "San Deigo Central interns are a lot of ass hats and bitches."
She giggled. "Wow, Shayne, I didn't know you could be so mean."
He smiled brightly, pulling out of the parking lot. "A fact's a fact."
"Still," Jasamin insisted, "most people wouldn't be willing to drive so far. Two hours to pick me up, then another to to drop me off, it's sort of ridiculous. I just wish I could have persuaded Zi do it. He's right here in L.A."
"Take it from a guy who grew up with Zione, he's exceptional at being selfish."
Zione was Noah eldest brother, and had been a senior Jasamin's first year at Headline. Noah often referred to him as a know-nothing-know-it-all, and he would've laughed his head off if he found out Jasamin had tried to convince the boy to go out of his way for her.
She would never admit it, she actually felt guilty thinking it, but she was glad that Zione had refused, she preferred Shayne's company by far.
"So, are you going to tell me why you're going home?" Shayne suddenly sat his head back. "Wait, that came out wrong. It's not like I don't think that you should spend the holidays with your family, but you've never had much of a connection you dad. I mean, as far as I can tell-"
"Shayne."
The man faltered, hesitated, then muttered, "Sorry."
"It's okay," she offered a smile, "I get it. I don't spend a lot of time at home. My dad asked me to come home."
Shayne's brow crinkled. "Well if he wanted you to come, then why are you making plans to leave this afternoon?"
"How did you know about that?" She knew a guy a home with relatives in San Deigo that he had plans to visit, and had agreed to let her ride back with him that night.
"Tony's sister is a resident at San Diego Central. News has a way of getting around at a hospital. Tony caught something real bad and won't be going anywhere and someone told Talia that I was supposed to be driving you down there..." He didn't need to finish his story.
"You don't have to stick around a strange town alone all day for me, you know?"
"But I want to." he glanced over at her. "I can't leave you alone with your dad without knowing if you'll have a way to leave if things get bad."
Jasamin clenched her fist tightly, feeling her finger nails dig into her palm. "Why does everyone just assume that there's something wrong with my dad?"
"Assume?" The outraged word almost came out as a squeak, and Shayne suddenly jerked the wheel and brought them to the side of the road, where he shut off the car. When he turned to look her, his face was riddled with hard lines that she had never known existed. "Assume?" he repeated.
"Shayne, I-"
"Noboby assumes anything," Shayne barreled on right over her. "Every time anyone sees you after you've been home, you have some new bruise, or cut, or something was broken or sprained or twisted. You flinch every time anyone says something to you, and you always walk with your head down, and look as though you think everyone's going to lash out at you at any given second. And then there's that thing that happened a few weeks ago. The PTSD attack."
Jasamin's shock fell away quickly, and fire burned in her chest. "How did you know about that?" She demanded, cheeks growing hot.
"Chris is worried about you. And she has a right to be-"
"Chris and everyone else just needs to mind their own damn business." Jasamin growled.
"Kissing a person sort of makes you their business."
Jasamin's eyes widened, and she jerked around so that she wasn't looking at the boy, who's face betrayed even more shock than hers did, as though he hadn't even known that was coming. Her breath was caught in her throat, like a wall had slide into place there, and it took her a moment to chock it out. "She told you," her voice cracked as she said it, and she pulled her knees up to her chest.
"I'm the only one she told," he tried to amend, and she heard him swallow hard. "She didn't even tell Shaena."
Jasamin gave a dry laugh. "Not so sure that makes me feel better. She tells Shaena everything."
She felt him place a hand on her knee. Felt his thumb trace circles on her jeans. "It doesn't matter. This isn't about Chris, this is about you."
"There's nothing about me to talk about."
"Jazz, please," he begged, squeezing her knee. "Just let me take you to a hospital. You've had enough improperly healed breaks considering you never attempted to seek medical treatment, and that combined with a statement should be more than enough to have you taken out of his custody and-"
"And what? Get put into foster care? Loose everything I've worked for?" She shoved his hand away and set him with a glare. "Shayne, I've told you before, things are fine how they are."
"If what you're worried about is not having a home, then I could take you. I would take you!"
"You don't even have your own place Shayne! How are you going to take in a kid, much less a teenage girl!" Jasamin countered.
"It wouldn't be very hard to get my own place, Jasamin."
"No, not for me," Jasamin insisted. "You need all the money you can get to pay off all of your loans and stuff."
Shayne laughed, and Jasamin frowned at him. "Jasamin, they practically paid me to go to medical school. Full merit scholarships, not to mention all of the others I received. Thanks to Headline, I don't have any debt, and I have enough money in the bank to buy three houses. I live with Karson and Adriana right now because for the next five years or more I'm going to be making the lowest income I ever will, and it's best to have all of my savings to fall back on if I have to, and I won't have that if I'm taking it out to pay rent for a decent living space, and food and utilites. That was a strategic decision, not a desperate one. I have more than enough money to get an apartment and care for a thriteen-year-old girl who's not even going to be around for nine months or more out of the year."
Jasamin thumped back into her seat, and closed her eyes. "Just drive please..."
She heard him take a deep breath, then they were moving again.
~Blown Away~
There used to be a tree in her backyard. It was young, and was just big enough that her mother couldn't wrap her hands around it. When she was six, there was a bad thunderstorm, and the wind ripped the tree from the ground, and made it crackle near the bottom. Jasamin could remember being confused when they found it that way the next morning.
After all, the wind wasn't supposed to be capable of breaking a tree.
~Blown Away~
Even though the touch that woke her was gentle, she nearly jumped out of her skin, and had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself.
When she opened them again, Shayne wasn't looking at her, but at his hands, which were gripping the top of the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. "We're here." His voice shook. She peered out of the window at the rundown house that was seeping memories, seering, blood-soaked memories. Her voice cracked. "Thank you."
"Call me when you're ready," he said as she climbed out onto the sidewalk.
She peered at him a moment, not saying anything, then, "You're seriously going to hang around all day?"
"And night if I have to," he answered firmly. "I don't just say things because I like the sound of my own voice."
"Neither do I, and I told you I don't need you to protect me." His gaze didn't falter when she gave him her best cold glare, so she gave up, taking a deep breath. "Go to Benjie's ice cream parlor. He'll let you hang out as long as you want if you pay for something."
"Thanks," he called, but Jasamin was already slipping though the front gate, and didn't bother replying.
She read once that animals have a sort of sixth sense; that they could tell when something bad was coming. She remembered thinking that maybe humans had that sense too, but simply didn't know how to make use of it. She thought about this as she came through the door, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
"Dad?" She tried not to gag at the overpowering smell of liquor, which she had never liked, not even when she had been living in it every day. "Dad?"
She dropped her bag on the floor, breathing into the sleeve of her jacket and made her way into the small kitchen, the floor littered with stray liquor bottles, which should have been in the disposal box that Harley had set up a long time ago. She glanced at it, pressed against the wall to her left. It was overflowing. The right wall was lined with a single counter, and a refrigerator that hadn't actually worked for years.
She found her father, seated at the small, round table pressed against the far wall. He sat with his back to the wall, both hands wrapped around the half-empty bottle of liquor in front of him. "What are you doing with your face?" He demanded as his slightly blurry eyes focused on her.
"The smell is intoxicating," she responded roughly, dropping her hand away. "Next time I'll bring some Febreeze home with me."
She knew better than to smart off to her father, but she had spent too much time around Julie, who's biting sarcasm was directed at anyone that she found deserving of it.
She watched his hands tighten around the bottle, knuckles turning white. "I suggest you watch your tongue. Testing my patience is not in your best interest right now." He took a swig from the bottle, then added, "Take a seat." Gesturing to the chair across from him.
She sat, scooting to the very edge and setting her elbows on the table in front of her, folding her hand, and feeling her pulse in her fingers. "Are you going to tell me what this is about?"
Her leg began to shake involuntarily, and she felt something swell in her chest, like a balloon. The longer she looked at him, the more she realized how bad this was going to be. When her father was drunk, he was violent, but stupid, when he was sober, he was sadistic, and highly intelligent. At the moment, he was walking the line between the two.
He was at his most dangerous.
"I received a call from your school," he stated, before taking another swig from his bottle.
"Oh?" She stared at the spot the bottle had vacated until it was replaced, then she looked at her hands. "What about?"
"Someone was concerned about the crowd you're running with. The choices you're making," he explained, standing and coming around the table. The skin on the back of her neck tingled as he stood behind her.
She swallowed hard, trying to think of what could have motivated the school to call home. They never did that. "I don't think I know what they could possibly be concerned about. I haven't-"
"Cut the shit, Breech!" He cut her off sharply, slamming his bottle against the table beside her, and splattering her face and arm and feet with the strong liquid it contained. She squealed, jumping back, but he caught her by her jacket, not effected by the rough edges of the zipper as it dug into his hand, and yanked her up so that she was barely standing on her toes. The neck of the bottle, which her father had dropped at his feet, bumped against the arc of her foot.
"You know what I think? Do you, Breech? I think that you're just an attention whore. I think that when people lost interest in the 'oh poor me' act you had to find something new to get you noticed."
Even though she knew that what he was saying was awful and she should be scared or offended, she couldn't focus on his words. Her mind was repeating, Don't step back! Don't step back!, because if she were to do that, then she would step on the broken neck and loose her footing altogether. The last thing she wanted was to be completely at his mercy, or worse, they would both fall and he would land on top of her.
"Well, let me inform you, girl! I won't have a damn lesbian in this house, no matter what the reason!" He released her, and her foot found the edge of the bottle, which groaned in protest. She only barely managed to keep her footing.
She began to take steps away from him, face turning hard. She met his eye, shivered, but kept her expression. "How do you plan on stopping me?"
He lunged catching her arm roughly, and slammed her into the wall behind her. She yelped, and attempted to pry his hand away as he shouted, "You think you're suddenly tough or something?"
"Let go!" She managed through her chocking, his rancid breath bringing stinging tears to her eyes.
"I asked you a question!" He roared, pulling her away, grabbing her by her jacket and shaking her so hard that her neck and shoulders crackled like the candy rocks that Harley used to buy her as a kid. When he stopped, the world spun like a drunken top, and she had no way of telling one blurring shape from another. His hand threw her back roughly, and the backs of her knees hit something solid, toppling her. Her head slammed into the wall as she landed on the wooden trunk filled with empty bottles, and it collapsed underneath her, leaving her crumpled in the glass spilling from the ruined remains. "Well? Answers me!"
He knelt down so that his face was inches from hers, and her head was spinning from the hit to the head and the intoxicating smell of his breath, making forming a verbal response impossible. So her body acted on its own accord.
She spat in the man's sunken, hate-twisted face, and he cried out, staggering backward and wiping at his face. She watched with twisting unsteady sight as he stepped on one of the bottles rolling across the floor and it shot like a rocket across the room, rolling noisily and clattering against the wall. The man fell backward, head colliding with the edge of the table with a sickening crunch. He threw out one hand to soften the blow and Jasamin found herself unable to look away as his hand landed on the broken remains of the bottle he had shattered, and an erect piece of glass sank into his wrist with a deadly vertical slice.
She didn't even cringe when red began to blossom on the tanned skin, and she wondered vaguely how fast he would bleed out if she were to tug that glass out.
He groaned, propping himself up on one elbow, and gripped the glass between two clumsy fingers, making the piece wobble and push slightly deeper, before he managed to get a proper hold and pull it out, gasping as red painted his arm and hand.
Blinking hard, he climbed sluggishly to his feet, stumbled into the table, then fell back to the floor. He sat still for a moment, taking in unsteady breaths as blood pooled underneath him. "Jasamin," he gasped at last. "Jasmin, bring me that phone."
Jasamin lifted her head, finding the phone on the wall above her head, which wouldn't stop moving. She blinked a couple of times, and when that didn't work, rubbed her eyes with a hand, but when she looked up again, the phone still hadn't come into focus. Gritting her teeth, she reached up, fumbling for the wire hanging close to her ear. Finally, she found it, and the phone clattered down, crashing on the floor.
She picked up one half of the old phone, staring at it with wonder, as her father cursed loudly. "Okay, okay," he was saying as she frowned at the oddly-angled wires that had snapped from the wall. "Cell phone. You have a cell phone, right?"
She turned her head, finally managing to focus on his quickly paling face. Feeling the ruined pieces of phone fall form her hands, she shook her head, slow and careful. "No."
He man clenched a fist. "That's a lie! I know you have a phone!" As though on cue, her phone began to ring, its sound echoing around the small room. "I knew it!" He half gasped, half-laughed.
Jasamin pulled the device slowly form her pocket, staring at the screen. It was Lauren. She squeezed it, biting her lip, and thought, I'm sorry Lauren. Then, she flipped it over, and slid off the back.
"What are you doing?" he demanded as she pried the battery out.
Jasamin glanced up at him, eyes cold. "You're right, I do have a phone," then she took the small battery in both hands, and braced it on her knee.
Within seconds, it snapped, and she allowed the pieces to fall to the floor with clatters that sounded louder than they should have been. "But I'm afraid it's missing a battery."
"You..."
"Yes?" The word came out coated with more venom that anyone should be capable of mustering. He fell back onto the stabbing glass, realizing there would be no talking his way out, and too weak to do anything physical at this point.
And as black began to take over his vision, he tried for one last stab, in a weak voice, holding more air than sound. "You're going to hell, you know that little girl."
With one wry laugh, Jasamin replied, "I'll see you there."
~Blown Away~
"Damn it!" Lauren growled, throwing the phone against the back of the couch. It bouced off of the cushion, hit the floor spinning, and caused Emmeline, who was seated cross-legged on the floor beside its landing point, to jump.
"Did you get her?" Alexander questioned, thumping his own phone against his palm as he walked in. "Mine keeps going straight to voice m-" He stopped abruptly as he looked up and realized that Lauren was giving him a death glare. "Um, is that a no?"
"Alexander, just stop talking!" Lauren warned, pressing her hands to the sides of her head.
Dekka was seated next to Rose, who was huddled in the corner of the couch, biting at the sleeve of her shirt. She leaned over and lowered her voice so as not to attract the attention of the entire room. "You should call Chris."
Rose stopped her chewing, and turned blue eyes on the other girl, features turning very quickly from surprised to hard. "Why should I do it?"
With a glare that cooled Rose's white-hot glare for a moment, Dekka answered in a matter of fact tone. "Because she's your girlfriend. It's as much your job to keep her informed as it is hers to do the same." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "And I think she's like to know about this don't you?"
Rose looked away, and said quietly, "I don't owe anything to someone who is willing to go off with another girl for a month without me."
"You're an idiot," Dekka informed flatly with a shake of her head. She climbed to her feet and walked away, saying, "Forget it." Alexander and Lauren didn't pause in their bickering as she passed between them, but Emmeline stumbled to her feet and followed.
"Where are you going?" She asked as they reached the hallway. She was so small that for every step Dekka took, she had to take two to keep stride.
"Looking for Andre. He does have Shaena's number, right?"
"Naturally." The young girl rolled her eyes as though Dekka were being stupid. "Why?"
"I think that the would want to know what's going on with their friends, don't you?" Dekka answered.
Emmeline's mouth peirced into a thin line, brow furrowing. "Was that sarcasm?"
Dekka took a deep breath, and gave the girl a quick sideways glance. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that."
"It's okay," Emmeline chirped, cocking her head with a grin, "but you're not going to find Andre here. He and Dielan went to pick up Rosie." Then, as Dekka stared at her with her mouth half-open, she added, "but Reggie's here, and he has contact to Shaela. That's just as good. I'll go get him!"
Then she was gone, pounding down a hallway that branched off of the one that they were making their way down. Dekka shook her head. This house was a maze. She had no idea where she was going.
She continued down the hallway, peering curiously through every open doorway, and at every picture on the wall, some portraying a child she recognized. Some of Karson and a woman with Lilah's small, cleanly sloped nose. Others showed a man with Lilah's charming smile and sparkling brown eyes, or of a woman that Dekka came to assume must be the man's girlfriend, or wife.
Shaking her head as she passed a photo of all the faces together, Dekka considered how lucky she was to have such a simple environment growing up; mother, father, and dauther. That was easy. Lilah's family was as huge and intricate as the house.
A smile pulled at the corners of Dekka's mouth as the thought crossed her mind; as huge as her personality. It was a fitting life.
The hallway opened out into an area that was difficult to place a name to. After a moment of blinking sunlight from her eyes, Dekka realized that it was the wall of the house made completely of glass, and the space behind it had been turned into one, huge room. The ceiling was so high that she had to tilt her head completely back to see it, and the floor was covered with soft, white carpet. The wall opposite of the glass was lined with bookshelves that overflowed with books of every shape and size, and the walls to each side were stacked with crates of children's toys.
The glass itself was engraved with three symbols, that bent the light at odd angles as it passed into the room. A flame, a sheild, and a question mark.
"Amazing isn't it."
Dekka jumped, staring at the owner of the voice. Reggie was a tall, willowy boy with an average face, and closely shaved head. He was seated on the floor, books spread out around him, flipped open to show complicated diagrams and paragraphs of words Dekka had never seen before.
"Amazing," she repeated, tilting her head to see the tower of books behind him that stacked to eye-level with the boy as he was seated. "Engineering?" she asked, finding the word on a spine.
"Yeah," the boy laughed. "Andrew claimed he was more diversity than me; that all I can do is books and date memorizing. So I agreed to take a course in engineering if he takes an advanced literature course." He selected the book at the top of his tower, and flipped it open. "Should one of us drop out of fail the course, then it proves that the other can branch out more."
"The things that you Headline kids get competitve about," Dekka muttered, shaking her head, then, she remembered that she had been looking for him. "Anyways, do you have a way to contact the Dark and Twisties?"
"Of course I do," Reggie replied, leaning back a producing a phone from the dark messenger bag behind him. "Why?"
~Blown Away~
"What about roses?" Chris suggested. The four teenagers were in a large, white room that ovrelooked the beach, and the sea's rolling waves. Chris was lying on the bed closest to the window, on her back, with on of her arms slung across her eyes. Shaena had her head rested on the other girl's torso, a hand held game adding background noise as she fired at enemy ships.
"Nah," the girl answered, clamping down on her lower lip as the screen flashed: Game Over. "Your girlfriend ruined roses for me."
"That was mean," her twin, who was seated on the other bed with the mouth piece of her trumpet and their contest music, tried to scold, but the laughter that accompanied it ruined the effect.
"It's the truth," Shaena replied with a shrug.
"Rose's are too overused anyway," Julie put in, not looking up from her book. She was seated indian-style on the floor, leaned against the bed.
"They'd be pretty though," Shaela commented, then her eyes lit up and she added excitedly, "Oh! Especially if they were yellow!"
Sheana made a gagging noise. "Yellow? Seriously? You're killing me Shaela."
"Remind me to oversee your wedding planning," Julie muttered, turning the page.
"I think roses would be okay if they were black," Shaena decided starting her game over. "That would be pretty cool."
"And yours," Julie added earning a glare from Shaena.
"You know having you help plan our weddings wouldn't be such a bad idea, Jules," Chris said thoughtfully, tilting her head back to look at the girl. "You know so much that you would probably find some detail that everyone thinks is weird until you explain how it has some deep significance that relates to the couple getting married."
"Yeah, and she'd have a different thing for everyone she does it for," Shaela added with a cute giggle as she shot a smug smile in her sister's direction.
Before Shaena could respond, Shaela's phone buzzed to life on the night stand. In a flash of black, Shaena leapt off of the bed, and snatched it from the table before Shaela could make a move. She cackled and turned the screen to the room. "It's Reggie!"
"Sheana Renee!" Shaela cried, leaping at her sister.
"I don't know why you're so excited," Chris was saying at the same time, picking at her nails. "You don't even like Reggie."
Using once hand to hold off her sister, who was warning, "You'd better give it back!" and ignoring Chris, Shaena answered the phone, and with a grin, sing-songed:
"Hello, this is Shaela's phone."
"Shaena!" Shaela hissed, trying to snatch the phone back, but her sister jerked away, mouth turning down into an irritated frown.
"Of course I'm with everyone else, genius," she snapped putting a hand on her hip. "Why wouldn't I be?" Tension filled the air like a gas bomb, and the effect was immediate. Chris sat up, and Shaela stopped fighting for her phone. Julie lifted hre head, studying Shaena's face. Everyone wore a frown.
There was a long silnce among them, in which Reggie's voice could be heard, but his words were indistinguishable except by Sheana, who's frown grew deeper and deeper the longer he talked. Then, his line grew silent, and Shaena said, "Okay, I'll relay the message." His voice followed in a short response, and Shaena said goodye, accompanied by a strangled, "Thanks you.", and she hung up the phone, holding it out to her sister.
Shaela didn't take it, but instead asked, "What's wrong?"
"Shaela, take the damn phone before I throw it across the room!"
Shaela snatched her phone away quickly as Chris stared, demanding, "What happened, Shae?"
Shaena stared at her friend for a moment, saying nothing, then: "Did your mom mention receiving a call from the school?"
Chris cocked her head, eyes sparkling with a silent question. "Um, no."
"Why would the school call home?" Julie climbed to her feet so as to get a better read on Shaena's face. "They don't really do that."
"Exactly." Shaena looked to each of her companions in turn. "Because it wasn't the school."
The words took a moment to sink in, but when they did, Chris's eyes turned o chips of ice in the coldest glare Sheana had seen form her since her mother's return. She breathed, "Adam."
Shaena didn't bother with a confirmation, she just said, "They know why Jasamin's dad called her home."
~Blown Away~
The first time he had seen the warning, "The coat is out of the closet" it had been from his sister Cynthia. Her best friend, a girl who was actually a boy, had come out, and when he refused to withdrawl the statement, his father had taken a frying pan to his warning basically meant to be careful about what you said, and not to ask too many questions.
But when a message from Shaela flashed onto his screen reading: The coat is out of the closet: Jasamin he knew its true meaning. Shaela was trying to warn him that a storm was coming.
But he knew the reality of what was happening. The storm was already upon them.
They were about to enter aftershock.
Anyone wanna take a stab at the title of the next chapter? huh? Huh? Do ya?
Lol, 20 points to whoever guesses it first, 15 to everyone after, and half for effort.
Trivia Time!:
1. Name the five GAP Girls and two GAP Guys(Five points for each name).
2. How old was our dear Jasamin when her sister died?(10 Points)
Okay, so I said pretty much everything I had to say at the top, so...
I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to drop a review! :)