the burden of wings

4

       I woke up screaming, Tryla lifted her head from my shoulder confused.
       “What's wrong big brother?”
       “Nothing,” I lifted the covers and stood up, “ but we should get going, before they realize we're doing a dine and dash in their motel.” I decided not to tell her, she has enough to worry about. She pulled on jeans after pulling on a bra under her shirt then tucked the shirt in the waistband of the jeans. I pulled on jeans too and packed up the stuff into my backpack. Then we walked outside and into my truck.
       “Are you sure visiting Nathan is a smart idea? What if he sees my wings?”
       “I'm counting on you not being shirtless around him.”
       “I'm serious.”
       “So am I, keep your shirt on.” She shoved me and started laughing. “We'll have to get you some loose clothes or something.”
       “Or get them amputated.”
       “Let's not do that. I like your wings.” 
       We drove for another hour before we reached Nathan’s. He sat on his porch smoking. As we walked up the driveway backpack in hand, he let out another puff. Tryla started coughing like crazy, dropping to her knees.
        Her enhanced lungs! I'm so stupid, I brought a girl with strong lungs to a heavy smoker's house.
       “I'm sorry,” Nathan said putting out his cigarette, “didn't know that she was asthmatic.” We both helped her stand again and walked into the house. I helped her sit on the couch, then I walked back over to Nathan.
       “Do you have anything to eat? We're starving.”
       Cupboard 1 empty, cupboard 2 empty, cupboard 3 fruity pebbles, jackpot! Tryla came behind me carrying a bowl and spoon. I poured a good amount into her bowl and drenched it in milk.
       “So this is what most people eat for breakfast in the morning, cereal? It doesn't look very nutritional.” 
       “Better than crappy protein packs and vegetables.” I said smirking as I ate a spoonful. She ate a bite and smiled, guess she likes fruity pebbles as much as I do.
       “So what's your name?” Nathan asked Tryla as he walked into the kitchen.
       “Try-”
       “Angel,” she said, “my names Angel.”
       “Okay Angel why have I never heard of you?”
       “Never came up,” I answered fake smiling.
       “I've known you for five years, and a little sister,” he quoted with his hands, “never came up.”
       “Yeah, pretty much.” Tryla finished her cereal and sat it in the dishwasher. 
       “Okay, fine, whatever. If you don't want to tell me what's going on, then don't. It's fine.” He showed us upstairs where the bathroom was, then showed us how to pull out the couch in the storage room. The room was covered in boxes floor to ceiling, with cans and clothes sticking out. “It's my survival room,” he explained. “For when the zombies come.” He left shutting the door as she sat on the pulled out bed.
       “What's a zombie?”
       “Nathan's obsession since he saw The Walking Dead.”
       “Okay then.” She laid back on the bed, shutting her eyes. “Shouldn't a twenty two year old like him know that shows aren't true?”
       “Said the girl with wings on her back.”
       “Sad, but true.” She rolled over on her stomach, trying to get comfortable.
       “Your not gonna go to sleep again are you?”
       “Maybe, I feel so tired.”
       “Well don’t, I need someone who won't talk about zombies the whole day.” She sat up and patted the spot next to her, I sat down feeling the feathers of her wings. “Do you wish that you didn't have wings.”
       “Sometimes, other times I remember that without them I'd be wearing a metal seat the rest of my life.”
       “Yeah, that's true. But you wouldn't be on the run or experimented on.”
       “I wouldn't be able to run.”
       “I'm sure that we could have found a different solution to your hollow back bones.”
       “Whatever, I'm used to them. No need to stir up up unnecessary emotions.”
       “Now you sound like dad, or one of those scientists.”
       “I bet you'll never guess who spent my childhood with? Go on guess?”
       “Okay, dumb comment.”
       “Yeah, it was.” She got up from the bed and left the room.
       “Come on Tryla!” I yelled to her as she walked downstairs.