The Wilde Expedition

39. balloon of memories

Copyright © 2015. All Rights Reserved.

〮CHAPTER THIRTY NINE 〮

I was avoiding my parents, and both my subconscious and conscious mind knew it. Since dinner, I couldn't seem to look at them without wondering... Who am I if I'm not Brad Austen's daughter?

I didn't go to my room because I knew that was where they'd look first if they happened to be on an Emma Hunt. My second choice was the living room because Uncle Bennet lit a fire in the fire place and it just seemed so homely and warm, cozy, wintry. The living room was out in the open, though, so I found myself on the western side of the house where Aunt Amaya and Uncle Bennet lived on the second floor, and Rick lived on the first floor. They had a small library full of books, but it's main purpose for their sake was the advanced home theatre system and the one PlayStation in the household.

When I sat down in one of the cushioned lounge chairs, I reclined back and let myself sink into it and feel overwhelmed with wayworn exhaustion. My skin felt fresh and taut from showering after dinner that felt like my first real cleansing in a while. I wondered if Gavin felt the same way.

As far as I knew, he was relaxing in one of the guest bedrooms downloading pictures, writing those short anecdotes that covered the scope of a single photograph. He agreed to stay the night, and make his decision in the morning. His van was stored away in the garage.

I positioned the headset over my ears and drowned out the whirling thoughts in my mind with sounds of gunshots and battle cries. I was honestly surprised that I was able to get through two missions before getting interrupted by two hard knocks on the wood of the library door.

"Come in," I called out, eyes still on the screen. I was starting to pick up subtle vibes—the kind that I could only recognize from spending so much time around her. She was too human to gather the pungent odor of wet dog.

Aunt Amaya strolled around my chair and stood just a step to the side. She had her arms folded over her chest, a fluffy white sweater masking her stout frame. I took a moment to pause the game before pulling off my headset. "What is it?" I asked.

She hesitated a moment before pulling up the other lounge chair and sat herself down, legs crossed and her arms leaning over the armrest. "I don't mean to be blunt or anything, but there has to be something you want to talk about. You barely even talked at dinner," she observed, the concern on her face making me slightly nauseous.

That part was true—I didn't speak much at dinner because I was still pissed at Mom and Dad for even considering hosting another ball, especially so soon after the last one. I didn't even want to think about Alister—he was a situation all on his own that had to be dealt with care. And the fact that Dad wasn't really my dad, well, that was an issue I had to resolve with them rather than my aunt.

"No, I'm fine," I said with a shrug, about to turn back to my game when she snorted and scoffed and gave me every indication that she didn't believe me.

"Horse shit. You aren't 'fine', whatever the hell that is anyway," she retorted. "And I know when my little Emma's got something on her mind. So what is it, spill it out."

I groaned and rolled my head back against the lounge chair. When I looked at her then, I couldn't even find the words to express how utterly cheated I felt. Home was supposed to be a haven, but now I wasn't exactly sure what it was. It didn't feel like I could talk to anyone—except maybe Gavin.

"I just want to see Charlie. I haven't been able to contact her since her mom put her on lockdown," I said, and it wasn't entirely false. Charlie was a priority, and now was as good a time as ever to check in on her. It was dark out now, though, and I couldn't imagine skipping out on the run tonight.