"𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁
all it ever says is:
𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦."
- trista mateer, honeybee
when valerie forester heads south to visit her best friend in nashville, the last thing she expects when she departs is an...
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★ ★★
it was nearly two in the morning when my ride finally decided to show herself.
irritated by my sister's tardiness, and on the verge of passing out on account of my fatigue, i watched her approach from the far end of the vast airport corridor, my lip tightening in a subliminal curl. for someone who had clearly just rolled out of bed, she looked shockingly put together. annoyingly so. i had to turn away. she might have considered her whole "fashionably late" schtick cute, but i sure as hell didn't.
"hey, sorry," marin said as she grew close enough for me to hear, her voice still thick with sleep. "i dozed off."
"it's fine," i mumbled, afraid that if i spoke too loud, too clearly, she'd be able to hear the annoyance stomping around on my tongue. i didn't want to fight. not really. not tonight.
she turned on her heel and retreated toward the exit before i'd even considered heaving myself to my feet. i followed after her like a lost puppy with all of my luggage in tow, glaring at the small bag suspended from her shoulder as she strode down the hall toward the exit. i grumbled to myself until we reached her large suv a long five minutes later. and when she clambered wordlessly behind the wheel and brought the engine to life i grumbled even more.
i heaved my luggage into the trunk, murmuring a sharp string of profanities under my breath as i struggled with the weight. as much as i didn't want my sister's help, i couldn't stop my jaw from clenching with frustration at her indifference. i slammed the hatch and climbed into the passenger seat.
we spent the first five minutes of the drive in ear-splitting silence. not even the radio dared to utter a single syllable. i rested my chin in my hand and stared out the window at the blackened void of a wasteland that sat between detroit and ypsilanti, dreaming of home as the tires hummed monotonously against the asphalt.
"so, how was your trip?" marin asked me after a while.
i should have appreciated her efforts to be civil, and i tried, but all i could think about was how big of a lie she was living. she didn't care about my trip, or anything about my life for that matter. and quite frankly, i was okay with that. part of me was even happy about it. i just wished that for once in her life she would stop pretending.
"alright," i said.
"how's layla?"
"she's fine."
neither of us said anything after that. until a few moments later, marin cleared her throat.
"it's mom's birthday tomorrow," she said. "in case you forgot."
my shoulders grew tense at the mention of our mother. the last thing i wanted to do tonight was talk about her. much less think about her. "what?"
"mom's birthday. it's tomorrow. don't forget to call her."
a frown made a puppet of my features. i knew better than to let my familial issues get the better of me. i knew it was stupid, and pointless, and flat-out ridiculous. but i was in over my head from the very second i agreed to let my sister pick me up tonight, and there was no turning back now. "...okay?"
