25/ gasoline

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Today is a day that I have been dreading for months, a day that most kids look forward to in their lives. It's my seventeenth birthday.

It sure does not feel like my birthday. I feel lousy, a dull ache throbbing in my wrists from what I did to them last night, and the same pain is pounding throughout my skull, like a hangover. Spending my whole entire day cooped up in my room does not sound like too much fun, so I go into work. It might do me some good to see Jason and talk to him.

"What's with the long sleeves?" Haley asks me upon my arrival, gesturing to my clothes. I am wearing a black long sleeved shirt with my Deadpool t-shirt over it. The purpose of the long sleeves is to hide the bandages on my wrists, but I will not tell this to her.

"I'm kinda chilly," I reply, shrugging as I put my apron over my head and go around the counter, absently wondering where Jason is. Usually he is here by now, awaiting my arrival, but today he is late. It's already almost noon. "Where's Jason?" I ask, to no one in particular. Haley and Emily exchange worried glances, and my stomach flips. Did something happen to Jason?

"He had some things to do," says Gary as he comes out of the kitchen, and I am surprised that he heard us from back there. "He'll be in later." I lower my eyebrows for a moment, about to press further, but decide against it. If I needed to know something, Gary would have told me already. So I stay silent, shrugging as I push the thought to the back of my mind and start waiting on tables.

The day somehow zooms by, and soon enough, I am home again.

Home.

I have not yet thought of the Padalecki household as my home— though it technically is— since I will most likely leave right after I finish my senior year. I do not want to be there longer than necessary, for their sake, not mine. I am sure that it will be better if I get a place of my own as soon as I can afford one; I already have quite a bit of bread saved up, and I keep it in my bank account so I don't spend it on unnecessary things that I don't need.

Just when I think I am lucky enough to have gone the whole day with no casualties, I hear a vehicle pull in the driveway, the sound of the engine all too familiar to my ears. Gen and I are washing the dishes, something that we have now done together almost every night since I have lived here. After the engine dies, the door bell rings.

"I'll get that," I say, drying my hands. Jared is upstairs saying goodnight to Thomas and Shep, so he is not going to answer it. I recognized the sound of the engine, so maybe I know who it is. I leave the kitchen, wiping my hands on my pants, as I did not dry them good enough before. When I open the door and see who is on the other side, my eyes widen. "What are you doing here?" I ask, trying to keep my voice quiet.

"I told you I was coming today," Mason replies, her voice giddy and a bright smile on her face. The look on my face is the exact opposite, probably. I do not recall hearing her say anything about coming here on my birthday, or maybe she did, I just forgot. "Come on, I couldn't miss my best friend's birthday!" She exclaims, then looks behind her, the edges of her lips turning up even more. "Plus, I brought your truck." I step outside, seeing that yes, she did bring my truck down here.

I gape at my gorgeous dodge, my eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. I have not seen my truck in over a month, and man have I missed driving it.

"Baby," I say quietly, stepping towards it and setting my hand on the driver's door. When I look in the back, I see Teresa curled up in a ball, sound asleep. "Why is she here?" I ask in my normal voice. The smile drops a little, barely enough for me to notice it, but I do. I furrow my eyebrows.

"She wanted to see you," Mason replies, her voice sounding broken this time. "Charlie, there's something going on with her." She's quiet now, and I remember that time I called Teresa and she told me about her problem. Well, she told me that she had a problem, but she did not tell me what it was. I guess she told her sister, and she is not taking it too well. "The other night, she..." her voice trails off, and she puts her finger against her wrist and slides it across.

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