Reconstructing Amelia (unedited)

Chapter 94

December 23rd, 2019

"So what did you want to show us?" I asked as Cato finally pulled off into a parking lot after nearly twenty minutes of driving. Alan had been muttering the entire time, grumbling about the Christmas music Cato and I had insisted on listening to.

Cato turned the radio off. "This parking lot," he answered.

Alan stared at him, dumbfounded. "You've got to be joking,"

"Nope. Come on," Cato climbed out of the car, and Alan and I both did the same. We were in a lot surrounded by tall stucco buildings and once-green plants covered in snow.

My gut clenched as I read the sign, my steps faltering. "Why are we at social services?" I asked quietly.

Cato put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Relax," he said gently, "we're only here for the parking lot, I promise,"

"Oh hell no," Alan snapped, his expression dark. "There is no way I'm getting in that death machine!" He kicked the tire angrily.

"Alan, don't be difficult," Cato tried to reason, choosing to ignore the fact that our brother was potentially damaging his car. "It's perfectly safe,"

"Safe?!" Alan shouted. "Safe?! You wanna talk about safe?!"

Cato sighed and rubbed his temples. "Look, you can either drive with me for a little bit or you can walk home. It's up to you,"

Alan narrowed his eyes. "That's like four miles,"

"Then I suggest you get in the car,"

Alan stood there for a few minutes, obviously debating his options before wordlessly turning around and marching towards the exit.

"Dammit," Cato swore. "That stubborn little shit. I thought that would work,"

I turned and quickly ran after my twin, catching up and grabbing his jacket sleeve. "Alan, don't go," I pleaded.

He turned to face me with a dark scowl on his face. "I'm not driving, Mia," he stated firmly, yanking his arm away and continuing to walk away.

I tugged on his arm again, pulling him to a stop. "Why?" I asked.

"Why what?"

"Why won't you drive?" I continued to tightly grip his sleeve, gazing up at him. His angry green eyes seemed to soften as he met mine.

"Because," He kicked at the ground. "Our parents literally died in a car accident. If it hadn't been for the crash, they'd still be alive. You wouldn't have been taken, and none of us would've been stuck in foster care," He trailed off bitterly, avoiding my gaze. "So yeah, it fucking terrifies me," he admitted quietly.

I let go of his jacket, hugging him tightly. He nearly stumbled in surprise before he hugged me back.

"Well, I think you're brave," I whispered. I felt him stiffen.

"Not when it comes to this,"

"Sometimes being scared means you're about to do something really brave," I told him. "Ella used to tell me that. You can't keep running away, Alan, you'll never get anywhere,"

Alan and I pulled apart, and he spent a few minutes just studying me with an uncertain expression. "Okay," he said eventually, his voice quiet.

"Okay . . . ?"

"Okay, I'll drive," he clarified, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. "But only if you promise not to laugh at me,"

I looped my arm around him as we walked back over. "You know I'd never,"

Cato stood up from where he'd been leaning against his car. "I take it it's a go then?" he asked.

Alan shoved right past him and took a seat behind the wheel. "Let's just get this over with,"

***

Nearly thirty minutes later we were still driving around the parking lot. Alan insisted on going very slowly, and between the constant arguing between him and Cato, his temper was rapidly spiking.

"This is pointless!" Alan shouted, cursing loudly and slamming his hands against the steering wheel.

"Alan, calm down," Cato encouraged. "Just try it again, you'll get it eventually," But Alan wasn't interested. It was a miracle Cato had been able to stay calm for this long.

I reached forward from the backseat and slipped my hand into Alan's supportively. He took several deep breaths before letting go, putting the car in reverse and backing out of his botched parking job.

He'd actually gotten the hang of moving and turning, so Cato had suggested he try parking. Alan, however, hadn't been too keen on the idea. He'd been trying for the past fifteen minutes, and every time he either went too crookedly or way too far to the side.

Alan slowly drove forward, aggressively peering through the windows to match up with the painted lines.

"That's it," Cato coaxed reassuringly. "Just angle left and pull through,"

Alan managed to pull into the parking space foot by foot. He was still a little far right, but he was inside the spot nonetheless.

"You did it!" I told him happily.

Alan was fighting to contain his grin but I could tell he was proud of himself. "Yeah," he said. "I did," He immediately turned to Cato. "Can we go home now?"

"Only if you drive," he answered, and neither of us could tell if he was serious or not.

Alan blinked, looking both confused and still upset. "Absolutely not,"

"Relax," Cato interrupted, "I'm kidding. You've done enough for today. Amelia, it's your turn,"

Alan instantly clambered out of the driver's seat, taking several deep breaths of fresh air and looking completely relieved to be done.

"But I already know how to drive," I said, slightly puzzled.

Cato shrugged. "You've never driven with me before, and it'll do you good to get some more practice,"

"But-"

"Just do it," Alan grumbled, sliding into the backseat with me. "I want to go and you're apparently our ride home,"

I frowned, but got out and switched seats. "Fine," I murmured, clicking my seatbelt into place and adjusting the seat nearly all the way forward.

"You'll be fine," Cato assured me, chuckling softly. "Don't worry about it,"