What Rose Above

Sixteen

My mother practically pranced towards the bottom of the stairs when she heard Christian and I shuffling down one after the other. There was a hopeful gleam in her eyes targeted at Christian. She waited until we reached the bottom step to fire her question, "Christian? You're not staying for dinner?" I could hear the plea in her voice. Christian and I shared a brief glance.

"Thanks Jen, I'd love to"—his smile was apologetic—"but I need to get home." Her hope instantly fizzled into disappointment as expected.

I'd noticed having him here eased her worries some. Unfortunately for her though, Christian had a life to live, and a job to maintain outside of us; a job that we just happened to get caught in the mix of. If he could drop everything and stay with us, I was sure he would.

"Hey mom, is it okay if I head out to Mr. Jefferson's diner for a few? I won't stay for more than an hour." I looked between her and Christian. He furrowed his eyebrows at me to which I responded with a signal I hoped he interrupted as, please help me out this once.

My mother frowned and shook her head. "Tyler, you know I really don't want you going out by yourself with everything going on. . ."

"I won't be by myself! I'll have an officer with me," I argued.

"Tyler." Her tone was firm.

I readied myself to accept defeat when Christian chimed in, "It's okay, Jen. I'll drop him off, then I'll make sure one of the officers is keeping a close eye on him and will return him home."

I cheered under my breath and thanked him internally. If Christian was backing me up, there was no way she'd say no. She wouldn't argue with the detective for Pete's sake (I hoped).

"One hour. That's it," she said, finally.

"Thank you!" I ran up to her, enveloping her in a hug and smacking a kiss on her cheek.

"I mean it, Tyler. Don't play with me today." She narrowed her eyes and turned, wagging her finger at Christian. "Christian he needs to be back in an hour. No ifs and buts about it."

"He will be back in an hour. I will make sure of it," Christian confirmed.

I ran upstairs to retrieve my things. As I returned, I heard my mother finishing off the last of her demands about me returning. Christian nodded along to every single word. When he spotted me, he nudged my back towards the door as if he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

"One hour. Or your mother will kill both of us. Don't try to persuade the officers either. They have strict rules to follow and they'll let me know," Christian warned me the minute we stepped foot outside. I backed away, holding my hands above my head.

"Of course, I know," I said, my voice raising a pitch.

"Now, let's go." He gestured towards his car. Not before pausing at the officer's patrol car and notifying them (I assumed) of the plan.

From there on, we were pulling up to Mr. Jefferson's diner before I knew it.

"One hour." Christian felt the need to reinforce the idea in my head. I was convinced he thought I was five-years-old sometimes, and not seventeen. Give me a break. Would it kill him to have faith in me? Even just a little bit. Maybe that was too much to ask for the likes of me.

"Roger that." After saluting him, I rolled myself out of the car. Thick heat consumed me, forming a barrier of sweat around my forehead. The sun was blazing at its highest today. That left little room for comfort, but more desperation for me to get the hell inside the diner.

"Is that my favorite visitor?" The bell had barely finished chiming when Mr. Jefferson's voice bled into my ears. I shot him a grin, sliding into the first stool across from him. It was then I noticed the atmosphere around us was quiet. The sound of dishes clashing in the back was the only thing capable of splitting the silence in two.