The Memory Of Us

Chapter 18

Khalil crossed his legs at the ankle, daring a look up from the phone held precariously in his hand as a large picture of Mina's face expanded across the screen of the T.V in front of him.

The picture looked as if it had been taken years ago judging by the youngness etched into her features and both her mom's and dad's beside her. They all had their arms wrapped tightly around each other, each of them sporting a wide grin more sincere than any he had ever seen her display recently, though she hardly had much to smile about these days.

Neither did he, especially now as he sent his tenth text to the girl he was pretty sure was ignoring him at the moment.

I'm sorry, can we talk?

Mina.

What I said was stupid. I'm stupid.

Please don't shut me out.

We can talk through this.

Are you ok?

Mina, please.

I love you, please talk to me.

If you want me to apologize to Sahil I'll apologize, but I can't stand the silence.

Mina, please.

She hadn't responded in days and worry was steadily crawling from the bowels of Khalil's stomach to his throat. He swallowed audibly in an attempt to suppress it, but it hardly made a difference, the worry was growing to fast to contain.

"-lawyer has refused to comment, but her trial date is set for December 18th-" The news reporter on the screen said as the picture on the screen morphed, replaced by a mugshot of Mina's mother herself.

Her skin was no longer vibrant and glowy, but dull and taunt. Her eyes were decorated with dark bags and had lost the twinkle that was usually present in them, the same twinkle that her daughter was steadily losing. Her lips were chapped and pulled into an immovable line. And her hair, for the first time, was unkept and untamed.

She looked like she had aged years instead of months.

"-unable to plead insanity. The case will most likely come down to witnesses and testimonials, specifically from people like her daughter, Mina Joyce Mendes and-"

Khalil zoned out, staring back down at the phone in his hand and the string of unanswered blue messages that decorated his screen and, before he could rationalize his decision he hastily typed out one final message.

I really am sorry, Mina. For everything, not just last night. I turned your life upside down and made it a living hell and I know there's nothing I can do to fix it and I'm assuming your silence is just confirmation of that. So I'll leave. For good so you'll never have to see me again or re-live the pain I caused you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love another person and I just want you to be happy. Even if that's without me.

The last sentence he typed was a bold-faced lie, but he had already hit send. So he drafted another message instead, uncaring how desperate or embarrassing it made him look.

I lied. I'm selfish like that but I suppose that's exactly why you can't trust me. I don't want you to be happy, not if that happiness doesn't include me. But I did mean what I said about leaving. I love you.

"Khalil!" A voice called out to him from a ways away and Khalil quickly shoved the phone that he wasn't supposed to have into the crack between the cushions of the couch just as a small boy with fluffy blond hair came skipping to a halt behind the arm of the couch.

"What munchkin?" Khalil asked, ruffling the boy's hair slightly as he leaned over the edge of the couch, hsi forearms gently resting on the stained beige material.

"Luke says come do the dishes." The boy said, his hands dancing rhythmically through the air to create his words and, though he hadn't spoken a word aloud, Khalil could practically see the air of importance present in his tone and facials.

"Isn't it your night?" Khali frowned, his brows knitted together tightly as he uncrossed his legs, spreading them wider in an attempt to hide from view his hidden phone and he sucked in a nervous breath as the boy's eyes darted down, catching the movement.

"It was." The boy nodded with a smile that told Khalil he was, like usual, up to absolutely no good. And when he looked up to meet Khalil's eyes once more, his were gleaming dangerously.

Despite barely being fourteen, that look sent a wave of uneasiness over Khalil's entire figure and his mouth dropped open as the small boy revealed, "Until I saw you on your phone."

"Seriously?" Khalil scoffed, eliciting yet another shrug from the boy who couldn't have looked more nonchalant if he tried, though Khalil would be nonchalant too if he were the blackmailer instead of the blackmailed.

"I could always tell Luke that you were breaking the rules again" He offered, before adding, "Though I doubt any other group homes would take you, what, with your record."

"You're a little asshole, you know that?" Khalil rolled his eyes, vigorously signing to the boy even as he began to rise from the couch, shoving his phone deeper into the cushions in the process before heading towards the kitchen of the group home.

And he shot the boy the middle finger over his shoulder in silent response to the kid's audible chuckles