Chapter 7 Mistake #2
"Your taste in music is what's making you crazy," Jake's voice calls out and my mouth drops open.
"You're just jealous that you can't find songs as good as these on your own," I give him a little smirk. He throws a pair of pants at me.
Unfortunately, they're probably dirty. Nasty dingleberry.
"If you want me to keep helping you clean your disastrous room, you best keep your dirty clothes to yourself," I point at him and he throws blue boxers at me.
I scream.
"Oh hush, they're clean...?" He trails off in question and I shiver in disgust.
"Azalea Carson!" Dad's voice travels up the stairs and Jake and I both pause our cleaning.
"Yes?" I call out nicely, afraid he'll get mad at me.
"I'm going to work," he appears in the doorway.
"This house better be spotless by the time we get back from work," he narrows his eyes at me and I give him a nod.
"Jake, make sure she does it. Love you son," he leaves out the doorway and I feel my eyes go blurry with tears.
Jake's warm arms envelop me and he holds my head against his shoulder.
"I'll help you, it's okay," he says soothingly.
"I love you, okay?" He says the words I desperately wish my father would say to me.
"I love you too," I hold onto him tightly as if he's going anywhere.
Thank God he's not.
I jump awake and look around for Jake.
He was just here, he was just in my arms. It felt so real.
I hadn't had a memory like that in a while.
Those were the types that take the most out of me. The ones that remind me of how much I lost after Jake passed.
I find the clock and see that it's only three thirty in the morning.
I'm terrified of going back to sleep. I know that I'll have another dream. Maybe even a worse one.
My mind begins to wander off to the day of the crash but I cut those thoughts off immediately.
Last time I went over what happened that day, it wouldn't stop replaying over and over again.
I couldn't escape it. The pictures showed when I was awake and they were worse when I slept. Pictures of his lifeless bod-
I cut myself off.
I remain wide awake until my alarm sets off. Once it does, I groggily get out of bed.
I take a shower all while struggling to keep balance on my single working leg.
I throw on a white sundress with short sleeves, keeping myself casual. A dress is easier to put on when you can't bend one of your knees.
I open my closet, grabbing a light pink sweater noticing it's a little chilly today.
I catch sight of my crutches in the back of my closet but I internally send them the middle finger.
Although I can hardly walk, I will not use those evil things.
I take a seat on my bed and grab a pair of tan sandals. One goes on easily. The other doesn't.
I grit my teeth in frustration and pain and I attempt to put my shoe on my god-forbidden foot. Painful memories fly back to me as I recall having to go through this every day after the wreck.
I let my hair dry and it takes to its natural slightly wavy state.
I almost leave before remembering something.
I make my way to my bathroom and cover up the hickey on my neck.
What a leech.
I'm still incredibly upset with myself. How can I go from being angry at him to all hornish-acting? If that's even a word, heck if I know, I'm not a dictionary.
Then, to make things worse, I was seen by lord-knows-who when stumbling my way out of his bar.
He talks about friends of his, maybe all those guys were his friends.
I can't help but feel jealous of him. He's got people to help him whenever he's struggling in any type of way.
I had to recover from a fatal crash all on my own.
I maneuver my way through the glass-covered floor to get to the front door. I grab my keys and I leave.
~~~
I walk into the store leisurely; trying to keep a pained expression off my face.
The last thing I want to do is worry Mr. Terrip. He doesn't deserve to be worried about me, I don't matter all that much.
I find my chair and take a seat, letting out a sigh once I do.
"No 'Hello, Mr. Terrip?'" he stops right beside my chair.
"I'm sorry," I give him an apologetic smile. He takes a seat on the arm of my chair.
"What is it darling? What has got you this way?" He speaks therapeutically.
"I want him back," I keep my eyes closed so he won't see how they're watering. I've already cried in front of two people this week, I don't want to make it three.
"My heart is just, it doesn't feel right," I speak, confusing myself with where I'm going.
"It hurts; it feels heavy. It feels like there's nothing you can do to make it feel better," Mr. Terrip finishes what I'm trying to say. More like the words I'm unable to say.
"You can't keep what you've been through to yourself," he admits.
"It's haunting you darling, I can see it," I rest my head on his side and he begins to brush my hair off of my forehead.
"I don't want it to haunt anyone else," I whisper, speaking the thoughts I've been thinking since the wreck.
"Have you considered what others think? Maybe we don't want it to haunt you. I know I don't. Aaron doesn't, you know he doesn't. I'm sure your parents don't either," he says.
My parents make sure it haunts me. My father reminds me that I killed my brother every chance he gets.
"You and Aaron shouldn't hear it," I tell him.
I only want their perspective of my brother to stay happy. I want their thoughts of him to remain as perfect as he was.
"You're too sweet," he places a kiss on my head before returning to his duties.
"How about that guy that was here? You two seemed quite close," he changed the subject and my mood takes a turn.
"I for one saw how he couldn't take his eyes off you," he nudges my shoulder
He was probably thinking of how annoying I am.
"I don't think he'll be around anymore," I sigh and Mr. Terrip's eyebrows furrow.
"Well I thought you two were friends?"
"I'm incapable of making friends," I bite my cheek.
"I think I'm done," I tell him.
"What happened? You two seemed fine. Especially when he was carrying you out of here," his tone turns playful causing a small smile to appear on my lips.
It was a mistake.
It shouldn't've happened.
"Our personalities didn't fit," I stand from my chair.
"I'm going to go find any out-of-place books," I turn away from him so we won't see my watery eyes.
I let my focus turn to books and before I know it, my mind has fully slipped away.
Maybe it's better that Grey and I don't know each other.
We're complete opposites.
Plus, he's not exactly the kindest person I've met.
But why do I feel so drawn to him?
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Thank you for reading! I'm excited about the plans I have ahead ;)
*Not edited*
Word count: 3205
-Ashlyn Montgomery