reticent

8

• AMALIA •

The two hour dance class passes by quickly, and when I'm turning the laptop off I hear the sound of shoes on the wooden studio floor.

I turn around, smiling. Archer walks toward me, clutching his happy little sisters hand. He sighs at my grin, then pulls his phone from his pocket. He turns it on and types in the passcode before passing it to me. "Put your number in." He says.

I take it from him. It's an older model of phone, and has multiple cracks in it, but I skip past them as I type my number in, saving it under AMALIA.

     I pass it back to him as Alexandra looks between us, her eyes big. She tilts her head. "Are you my brothers new girlfriend? I told him he needs one. He's a loner—"

     I stifle a laugh as Archer claps a hand over Alexandra's mouth. She giggles.

     "No, she's not." He says gruffly, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He turns around and begins to walk back toward the door.

"See you tomorrow." I say.

"Mhm." He replies before leaving, holding onto a giggling Alexandra's hand.

I leave a few minutes later, dance bag flung over my shoulder, and begin to make my way to the car park, where my dads car is waiting. I climb into the passengers seat, smiling at my father, who kisses my cheek.

"Hi, baby." He says softly.

"Hi." I respond, setting my bag down onto the car floor.

"How was it?" He asks as I fasten my seatbelt. Only when I'm safely buckled in does he begin to drive, pulling out of the car park and onto the road.

"It was good." I say shortly.

He grabs something from the console and passes it to me. I smile when I see that it's my phone, and take it from him without a thank you. Just because he apologised, it doesn't mean it was okay; he's never done that to one of my brothers. I don't care if he's more protective over me. If he was angry, he should've waited.

The rest of the car drive home is silent, though my father glances at me every couple seconds. I keep my eyes on my phone, responding to the texts I got from my friends throughout the day.

     When we finally get home, I open my door and rush over to the house, entering with swiftness. I walk up the stairs quickly, then to my room. I hear my fathers heavy sigh as he closes the front door.

     I walk into my bedroom, collapsing onto my sheets. My phone dings with a text, and I pull it from my hoodie pocket with a heavy, exhausted breath.

     UNKNOWN: Hi.

     ME: Archer?

     UNKNOWN: Guess again.

     I furrow my eyebrows.

     ME: Who are you?

     UNKNOWN: I said guess again.