206-402-4293

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I helped Luke get cleaned up for bed. I lied out a pair of pajamas for him and sat in the bathroom with him while he showered and talked to him about my mom, my dad, told him the truth about Arrie, what Sam was really doing, and how I was conflicted between Ashton and Sammy. I didn't need him to give me responses, I was happy just getting everything off my chest. After Luke fell asleep I went to search for Sam. He sat in the living room all alone watching a football game in complete silence. Muffled laughter entered the house as everyone else was in the backyard, swapping jokes that needed to be retired.

"Sam, can you take me home?" I took a deep breath and held it. That was my awesome solution to keep myself from crying whenever I felt my bottom lip tremble and a lump form in my throat. I was overwhelmed with emotions rooting from my issues with Sienna and Ashton and watching Luke cry his heart out.

"I had a cab drop me off...sorry." Sam's eyes were still glued to the game. He sat pretty emotionless towards it. From the sounds of the commentators and cheers from fans the game sounded intense enough to make the average person jump out of their seat and scream at the TV like the players would actually hear them. Sam's face showed a great detachment from the moment, something that I had never seen before.

"That's fine. I'll walk or something..." I sat down next to him, pulling my phone from clutch to get an estimate on how long it would take me to walk from here back to the side of town that I belonged on. A small white crumbled up paper fell out of my clutch, normally I'd think nothing of it because I had a habit of tossing gum wrappers or straw covers into my source of bag, but the paper was neither of the two.

206-402-4293

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I read the number until finally settling with the fact that it didn't look familiar to me whatsoever.

"Are you kidding me?" Sam's voice brought me back to reality. I crumbled the paper back up and put it back where it came from. Something told me it would be useful in the future. "That'll take you at least two hours to get back." Okay, I definitely didn't need to walk from here. I was still so out of shape, believe it or not. "Arrie!" Sam shouted and dug out his wallet.

Arrie was amongst the group that was sitting outside. A glass sliding door separated the inside from the outside and Arrie was one of two people that I knew would forget the door existed and run into it. Luke was the second person. Arrie rubbed his forehead as he came back inside.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna call a cab, here's some money for you guys to get back home." For a change it was nice to see Sam hand over a decent amount of money instead of giving a duffel bag of money or a wad of cash. "Make sure to keep her safe. If she has a minor scratch I'm going to cut each of your toes off." Sam gave two quick slaps to Arrie's cheek before making a quick phone call for a cab.

"I know, I know. Don't worry." Arrie already knew the drill, but Sam still reminded him of his purpose for being around every chance he got. I felt bad for the guy having to basically babysit a seventeen year old instead of doing what people his age did. Sometimes I felt like he wanted an escape.

Sienna saw Sam pull out money, or I guess she sniffed it out from outside, and brought herself inside. Her eyes wide and full of money signs. Sam shooed her off to get him a glass of water in the kitchen.

"I need one last favor." I said to Sam, nodding to Arrie as he said he'd be right back.

I watched Sienna tip toe to reach the cupboard of cups, her blouse riding up her torso. Exposed were the tropical flowers and solo butterfly on her lower back, being colored in various shades of green blue, and purple.

"I'm listening." I couldn't really tell if he was or not because he sounded as detached as he appeared.

I took another look at Sienna, who was still having a difficult time reaching the right cup. Liz had specific cups for water, no one knew why.

The correct cup for water didn't concern me, it was the tattoo that had most of my attention. It was the tattoo from the drawing that Sammy thought belonged to me. Where did the drawing come from? Why was I barely learning about my mother having a tattoo? Yet alone, a tramp stamp. The S.S. on the drawing were her initials. Who was trying to lead me to the truth about her?

"Can you get me some information on Neil Irwin? Associated with The Rebels, deceased..."

"I'm sure I can get something together for you. Do you want the information in the form of an essay or power point with some badass clip art?" Sam walked beside me while Arrie walked in front of me. I just needed two more guys walking with me and I could be some sort of political figure that enjoyed taking cabs and making out with someone she wasn't dating. I would definitely stir controversy in politics. Call me Bill Clinton.

"Whatever feels right to you." I shared the regular long embrace with my brother, making sure this one took longer than previous ones just in case this would be the last time I'd see my brother. No one should ever feel comfortable with the fact that a family member was putting themselves in danger and could die at any second, but I had to accept. As fucked up as it was, accepting it was all I could do. "I'll see you whenever, then."

"Don't worry about mom. I'm going to fix this." He rubbed his palm against the scruff on his jaw line. "I have someone looking into mom's past and we'll get all the answers we need." I wasn't sure answers were what I needed anymore. Answers were never this difficult to get. I'd be better off excommunicating Sienna than trying to get her or dad to fess up.

I slammed the cab door once I was in and offered the driver my address. I hated taking cabs because I always had the unsettling thought that the drivers liked to show up people's houses after hours and stalk them.

"I didn't think your mom was as bad as you and Sam had mentioned." Arrie started a conversation with me to distract us both from the driver talking to himself. "She takes conservative to the extremes. I never would've guessed that she had a tramp stamp either."

I never would've guessed that someone would take it upon themselves to sketch out her tattoo detail for detail and stuff it in one of my school notebooks without me knowing. I knew no one close to me that could draw that well. One question was answered, but it made another question be left open.


the writing thing changed its ugly i want to retire

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