reticent

6

• AMALIA •

"Get up to bed." My dad says, his first words since the car. He doesn't wait for me to say anything, walking to his study and going inside, closing the door behind him.

     I turn to Cole. Smile. He doesn't smile back. His eyes are narrowed slightly into a glare.

"Are you mad at me?"

"What did I tell you?" He asks.

"Not to drink." I say.

He sighs. Leans against the wall. He rubs his face, letting out another sigh. Soon he'll be out of breath.

     "Come on, let's get you into bed." He says, voice oddly soft when he takes his hands away from his face.

     "So you're not mad at me?" I question hopefully.

     "I'm fucking furious, Amalia. But I'll shout at you when you're gonna be able to remember it." He says, smiling.

I frown. He walks over to me. "Can you walk up the stairs."

I glare at him. "My legs aren't broken."

His annoyed expression remains. He gestures to the stairs, and I walk over to them, then up each step slowly until I make it to the top. Cole always remains a step behind.

     I continue to my bedroom. When I'm opening the door, Cole says: "Xander's pissed, by the way."

"That's gross." I mumble. "I didn't need to know that. Why do you know that?"

He furrows his eyebrows, opening my door for me. "What?"

"I don't need to know about what he does in a bathroom—"

     He sighs. "I mean he's angry, Amalia. Jesus."

     "Amen."

     He rolls his eyes as he walks beside me. He travels over to my pyjama draw, pulling clothes out and passing them to me. Without another word, he leaves.

I frown as I take my dress off, replacing it with fluffy pyjamas. I manage to wipe my makeup off before collapsing into bed. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

•

I wake up, immediately wishing that I hadn't. My head pulses with an ache and my back is sweaty. All of my limbs feel disconnected to my body.

"Look who's finally awake."

I snap my head toward Xander, sitting beside me. It only causes my headache to worsen. His back is leaning against the board, and his legs are outstretched in front of him. He's taking up half my bed. I glance up at his face, frowning at his narrowed eyes.

I expect them to soften, like they do all the time, but they don't. They stay hard. Annoyed. Angry. Xander has, by far, become my strictest brother. Sometimes he acts like he's my father, which usually makes me feel loved. But now it's making me worried.

     "Hi." I whisper.

     His glare worsens.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes."

     I frown again. "Sorry."

     "Are you kidding me, Amalia?" He asks, voice raising. "You went out to a party, got drunk, then got into a fight!"